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:T)1CK.8<. FITZGERALD-- 

NEW YORK. 



y 



A COLLECTION 



HUMOROUS, DRAMATIC, 



DIALECT SELECTIONS, 



EDITED AND ARRANGED 



FOR PUBLIC READING OR RECITATION, 



BY ALFRED P. BIJRBANK, 



And containing many Choice Selections never before in print, as 
well as some old favorites. 



i 




NEW TORE ; 
DICK & FITZGERALD, PUBLISHERS 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 

DICK & FITZGERALD, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at "Washington, D. C-. 



PEEFACE. 



I take pleasure in presenting this little volume to the 
public, as it enables me effectually to answer very many 
inquiries after choice selections made popular by me and 
others of the profession, and hitherto most difficult to 
obtain. 

I am especially indebted to Mr. Dion Boucicault, for his 
great kindness in allowing me so liberal an extract from 
the Shaugraun; also to many other kind friends who have, 
from time to time, suggested or given me some of the 
rarest bits of dialect in the book. 

In preparing this collection, I have taken especial pains 
to include only those things which I know by actual trial 
to be strong and successful. Every public reader will 
appreciate the force of so emphatic a statement as the 
above, one which I believe can be truthfully made of no 
other "collection" now extant; and with the experience 
of nearly one thousand public entertainments in all parts 
of the country to guide me, I have done my best to fulfill 
the conditions of preparing an intensely practical and 
desirable collection. 

It will be apparent to all discriminating minds, that this 
book is by no means intended as a •' Beading Book " in 
the ordinary sense of that term. It is not intended, nor is 



4 PREFACE. 

it fitted, for a school or class text-book ; and were it my 
intention to make this preface, in any sense, an essay on 
Elocution, I could adduce many reasons why such a hook 
should not he so used. It is intended to afford hoth pro- 
fessional and amateur readers a fund of selections espe- 
cially adapted to the purpose of entertaining an audience. 
I only regret that the limit of price, and consequent 
space, in this small book, prevents the introduction of 
scarcely more than half of my own repertoire, to say noth- 
ing of many charming and desirable specialties of other 
readers, which I might use had I room. Trusting, how- 
ever, that this book will answer all desirable ends, until it 
shall seem best to make a more comprehensive collection, 
I remain, 

The Public's faithful servant, 

A. P. BTJRBANK. 

September, 1878. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Conn's Description op the Fox Hunt 7 

The Tailor's Thimble 8 

The O'Kelley Cabin 10 

The "Oolaghaun" 12 



Kip Van Winkle. 



15 



The Death of the Old Squire 20 

Schneider's Description of "Leah" 23 

Love on the Half-Shell 26 

Father Phil's Collection 28 

A Literary Nightmare 37 

The Birth of Ireland 43 

The Irishman's Panorama 44 

Money Musk 46 

The Shd? of Faith 48 

Pop -pup-poetry 50 

A Senator Entangled 51 

Christmas-Night in the Quarters 57 

A Love Song 62 

Tins Steamboat Hace 63 

The Swell 67 

The Little Stow-away 70 

Surly Tim's Troublb 75 

The Water Mill 82 

The Fall of the Pemberton Mill 83 

Death of Little Jo 93 

The Soldier's Reprieve 97 

Brother Anderson 101 

A Basket of Flowers 104 



6 CONTENTS. 

rAGK. 

M ah'sk John 109 

Daddy Fuck's Spree no 

The Ballad of Babie Bell 114 

aux ita liens 117 

Breituann in Maryland 120 

" The Morning Argds " Obituary Department 123 

Snyder's Nose 1 30 

Magdalena, or the Spanish Duel 132 

"Bay Billy" 140 

Return of the Hillside Legion 143 

C uddle Doon 145 

Sheridan's Ride 146 

The Power of Prayer 148 



BUBBANK'S 

Recitations and Readings. 



CONN'S DESCRIPTION OF THE FOX HUNT. 

(From " The Shauguaun V —Act I, Scene 3.) 

The following extract from the great play of the " Shaugraun " is 
used with the special permission of Mr. Dion Boucicault. It is 
taken from the scene where Mrs. O'Kelley, the mother of Conn the 
Shaugrann (Irish for vagabond), is conversing with Conn's sweet- 
heart, pretty little Moya Doolan. As these two women are talking, 
enter Conn. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. The polis was in my cabin to-day. They say 
you stole Squire Foley's horse. 

Conn. Well, now, here 's a purty thing, for a horse to run away 
wid a man's character like this. Oh, wurra ! may I niver die in 
sin, but here was the way of it. I was standin' by ould Foley's 
gate, whin I heard the cry of the hounds comin' across the tail end 
of the bog, and there they wor, my dear, spread out like the tail of 
a paycock, and the finest dog fox you ever seen was sailin' ahead 
of em, up the boreen, an' right across the church-yard. It was 
enough to rise the inhabitants. "Well, as I looked, who should 
come up an' put her head over the gate beside me, but the squire's 
brown mare, small blame to her. Divil a thing said I to her, nor 
she to me, for the hounds had lost their scent among the grave- 
stones, we knew by their whine and yelp — when, whoop ! the fox 
wint by us. I leapt on the gate, an' gave a shriek of a view-halloo 
to the whip. In a minute the pack' caught the scent again, and the 



8 THE TAILOR'S THIMBLE. 

whole field came roarin' past. The mare lost her head and tore 
at the gate. Stop, says I, ye divil ! and I slipped a taste of a 
rope that I had in my pocket over her head an' into her mouth. 
Now, mind the cunnin' of the baste. She was quiet in a minute. 
Come home aisy, now, says I, an' I threw my leg across her. 
Bejabers, no sooner was I on her bare back, than, whoo ! holy 
rocket ! she was over the gate an' tearin' like mad after the hounds. 
Torick, says I, come back, you thief of the world ! Tally-ho ! 
says I, where are you talon' me to ? as she went through the 
hunting field, and laid me beside the master of the hounds, 
Squire Foley himself. He turned the color of his leather breeches. 
Mother o' Moses ! ses he, is that Conn, the Shaugraun, on my 
brown mare ? Bad luck to me, ses I, it's no one else. You stole 
my horse, ses the Squire. It's a lie, ses I — 'twas your horse 
stole me. 

Mota. An' what did he say to that ? 

Conn. I couldn't stop to hear, for just then we took a stone wall 
an' a double ditch at the same time, an' he stopped behind to keep 
an engagement he had in the ditch. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. Ye'll get a month in jail for that. 

Conn. A month in jail, will I ? Well, begorra, it was worth it. 



THE TAILOR'S THIMBLE. 

(From " The Shaugraun "— Act II, Scene 4.) 

On account of Conn's fondness for the "juice of sod " and gen- 
eral dissolute habits. Father Doolan, the parish priest, and uncle of 
Conn's sweetheart, Moya, who is her uncle's housekeeper, has quite 
forbidden Conn the house ; but the young people got together oc- 
casionally for all that, and Conn was hanging around outside one 
stormy night, as was his custom, when Father Doolan's heart re- 
lents and he says : 

Father Doolan. "Well, you may let him stand in out of the 
wet. Give me a cup of tay, Moya. I hope it will be stronger than 
the last. Well, Conn, haven't ye a word to say for yourself? 

Conn. Divil a one, yer Riverence. 



THE TAILOR'S THIMBLE. 9 

Father Doolan. You are goin' to ruin. 

Conn. I am, bad luck to uie. 

Father Doolan. And you want to take a dacint girl wid ye ? 

Conn. I'm a vagabone intirely. 

Father Doolan. "What sort of a life do ye lead? What is 
your occupation ? Stealin' the salmon out the river at night ? 

Conn. No, sir, I'm not so bad as that, but I'll confess to a 
couple of trout — sure the salmon is out o' sayson. 

Father Doolan. The tay smells of whiskey. 

Conn. If ye plaze, sir, it's not the tay ye smell, sir— it's me. 

Father Doolan. That reminds me. Didn't ye give me a 
promise last Easter, a blessed promise made on yer two knees, 
that ye'd lave off drink ? 

Conn. I did, barriu' only one thimbleM a day, just to take the 
cruelty out of the water. 

Father Doolan. One thimbleful? That I allowed you that 
concession — no more. 

Conn. God bless, ye did, an' I kep' my word. 

Father Doolan. Kept your word! how dare ye say that? 
Didn't I find ye ten days after stretched out as drunk as a fiddler 
at Tim O'Malley's wake? 

Conn. Ye did, bad luck to me. 

Father Doolan. An' ye took only one thimbleful ? 

Conn. Divil a drop more. Now see this. Ah, will ye listen to 
me, sir ? I'll tell ye how it was. "When they axed me to the wake, 
I wint. Oh, I wouldn't decaive ye, sir — I wint. There was the 
Mulcaheys an' the Maloneys an' the O'Flahertys an' the Madi- 
gans— 

Father Doolan. I don't want to hear about that at all — come 
to the drink. 

Conn. Av coorse. Begorra, I came to that soon enough. "Well, 
sir, whin, after blessin' the keeners an' the rest of them, I couldn't 
despise a drink out of respect to the corpse, long life to it. But, 
boys, sez I, I'm on a pinance, sez I. Is there ever a thimble in 
the house, sez I — for divil a drop more than the full of it will pass 
my lips this blessed day. "Well, as the divil's luck would have it, 
there was only one thimble in the house and that was a tailor's 
thimble, an' they couldn't get it full— begorra, they got me full first. 

Father Doolan, Ah, Conn, I'm afeared liquor is not the 



10 THE O'KELLEY CABIN. 

worst of your (loin's. "We've lost sight of you lately for more than 
six months. In what jail bave you spent your time ? 

Conn. I was on my travels. 

Father Doolan. Where? 

Conn. Round the world. Ye see, sir, after Master Robert was 
tuk an' they sint him away, the heart seemed to go out of me 
intirely. I'd stand by the say an' look over it, and see the ships 
sailin' away to were he may be, till the longing grew too big for 
my body, an' one night I jumped into the coast guard-boat, stuck 
up the sail, and away I wint. 

Father Doolan. Bless the boy ! ye didn't think ye could get 
to Australia in a skiff? 

Conn. I didn't think at all. I wint all night. I tossed about all 
next day an' that night, till at day-light I come across a big ship. 
Stop, sez I, an' put me ashore, for the love of Heaven, sez I; I'm 
out of me coorse. They whipped me on deck. Where d'ye come 
from ? sez the captain. Suilabeg, sez I ; I'll be obliged to you if 
you'll lave me anywhere handy by there. You'll have to go to 
Melbourne first, sez he. Is that anywhere in the County Sligo, 
sez I, lookin' like a lamb. If ye heard the shout of laffin' I got 
for that. Why, ye omadahaun, sez he, ye'll never see yer home 
for six months. Then I set up a " withersthrue." Poor divil, sez 
the captain, I'm sorry for you, but ye must cross the say. What 
work can ye do best ? I can play the fiddle, sez I. Take him 
forward and take good care of him, an' so they did. That's how I 
got my passage to Australia. 



THE O'KELLEY CABIN. 

(From " The Shattgraun "—Act III, Scene 1.) 

Conn's master, the young Irish nobleman, Robert Ffolliot, has 
been exiled to Australia for his Fenianism. Managing to escape 
by Conn's assistance, he returns to Ireland, but is quickly appre- 
hended and placed in prison. Conn is equal to the situation and 
helps him break jail. Just as they are getting nicely away, how- 
ever, the villain of the play, Cony Kinchella, the cruel squireen, 
sets upon them with the soldiery and constabulary. Conn outwits 



THE O'KELLEY CABIN. 11 

them by taking on his master's disguise, so that while the noble- 
man really escapes, Conn is followed to the ruins of St. Bridget's 
Abbey, where two shots are fired at him, and he rolls down to the 
foot of the ruins, apparently dead. It seems that Conn and Ffol- 
liot had made an appointment with their respective sweethearts, 
Moya Doolan and Miss Arte O'Neal, to meet them at this spot, and 
run away with them, provided they get off safely. These two young 
women are, however, abducted by the villains, and Conn is taken 
home and laid out on a door, ready for a rale ould Irish wake. 
Father Doolan is pacing up and down outside the cottage, waiting 
the arrival of the mourners, and bewailing the untimely fate of 
poor Conn, and the abduction of Moya and Miss O'Neal, concerning 
whom he says : 

Father Doolan. These two girls were the only witnesses of the 
deed. And that was why they were carried off. No one else was 
present to prove how Conn was killed. 

Conn, {putting head out of window.) Tis — I was there. 

All. Conn alive! 

Conn. Whist ! No, Fm dead. 

Father Doolan. "Why, you provoking vagabond, is this the 
way you play upon our feelings ? Are you hurt ? 

Conn. I've a crack over the lug, an' a scratch across the small of 
me back. Sure, miss, unless I drawed them two shots, you would 
never have had the signal. 

Father Doolan. Brave fellow ! How did you escape ? 

Conn. I'll tell you, sir ; but, whoo ! gorra ! they say dead men 
tell no tales, but here am I, takin' away the character of the cor- 
poration. When the master got out of the jail, there was Kin- 
chella and his gang outside, waitin' to murther us. We give them 
the slip, an' while the master got off, I led them away after me to 
St. Bridget's Abbey. There, after I got them two shots out of 
them, I rowled down an' lay as quiet as a sack oi pittaties. Miss 
O'Neal an' Moya were standin' by an' screechin' blue murther. 
" Stop their mouths !" said a voice that I knew was Kinchella's. 
Eeilly and Sullivan whipped them on to a car that was waitin' out- 
side. After that, sorra a thing I renumber, till I found myself 
laid out on a door, wid candles all around me, an' whiskey bottles 
an' cakes an' sugar an' tobacca an' lemons an' bacon an' snuff, an' 
the divil an' all. I thought I was in heaven. 



12 THE " OOLAGHAUN." 

Father Doolan. And that is his idea of heaven ! And you let 
your poor old mother believe you dead, you didn't relieve her 
sorrow ? 

Conn. Would ye have me spoil a wake after invitin' all the neigh- 
bors ? Thin I remimber the polis would be wantin' me for the 
share I had in helpin' the masther to break jail. Oh, sir, don't let 
on to the mother ; she'd never howld her whist. Besides, sir, I 
want to be dead, if ye plaze, to folly up the blackguards that have 
howld of Moya an' Miss O'JSTeal. 

Mol. Do you know the place where these ruffians resort ? 

Conn. I'm consaited I do. 

Father Doolan. I'll answer for him he knows every disrepu- 
table den in the county. 

Conn. An' where would ye be now if I didn't ? 

Father Doolan. Here comes your mother with the mourners. 

Conn. Whoo ! she'll find some of the whiskey gone. 



THE " OOLAGHAUN." 

(From " The Shaugraun "—Act III, Scene 2.) 

Male Yoices. 

Och, Oolaghaun ! Och, Oolaghaun ! 

Make his bed both wide and deep. 
Och, Oolaghaun! Och, Oolaghaun! 

He is only gone to sleep. 

Female Yoices. 

Why did ye die— oh, why did ye die, 
And leave us alone to cry ? 
Male and Female Yoices. 

Why did ye die, why did ye die, 

Leaving us to sigh — och, hone ! 
Why did ye die, why did ye die, 
Oolaghaun— och, Oolaghaun ! 
Biddy Madigan. Oh, hoo ! Oh, hoo ! Oolaghaun ! The widdy 
had a son, an only son— wail for the widdy. 
All. Oolaghaun ! 



THE " OOLAGHATJK." 13 

Biddy. I seen her when she was a fair young girl, a fair girl 
wid a child at her breast. 

All. Oolaghaun! 

Biddy. None was like him, none could compare. (Aside.) Give 
me a drop of something to put the spirit in me — the fire is get- 
ting low. 

Conn, (aside.) It's a mighty pleasant thing to die like this once 
in awhile, and hear all the good things said about you after yer 
dead and gone. 

Biddy. He was the pride of the O'Kelleys forevermore. 

Conn. I was a big blackguard whin I was alive. 

Biddy. Good and beautiful. 

Conn. Oh, go out o' that ! 

Enter Molineaux. 

Mol. I beg pardon for intruding upon this melancholy enter- 
tainment — this festive solemnity. 

Mrs. O'K. Heaven bless yer honor for comin' to see the last of 
him. Isn't he beautiful ? 

Mol. The rogue is winking at me. 

Mrs. O'K. How often I put him to bed as a child, and sung him 
to sleep ; but now he'll be put to bed wid a shovel, and the song 
was never sung that will awaken him. 

Mol. If any words could put life into him, I have come to 
speak them. Kobert Ffolliot has been pardoned and returned 
home a free man. 

All. Hurra ! Hurra ! 

Mol. But his home is desolate, for the girl he loved has been 
stolen away. The man who robbed him of his liberty first and 
then of his estate, has now stolen his betrothed — Mr. Corry Kin- 
chella. The ruffians who shot the brave fellow who lies there 
were led by Kinchella's agent, Harvey Duff. 

All. Harvey Duff. 

Biddy. Harvey Duff sent my boy across the sea. 

Doyle. I've a long reckoning agin him and I keep it warm. 

Mrs. O'K. I've a short one and there he lies. 

All. "Where is he ? 

Mol. Kinchella and his men are hiding in some den where they 
hold Miss O'Neale and Moya prisoners. 



]4 THE " OOLAGHATJN." 

All. Moya Doolan ? 

Mol. The niece of your minister, the sweetheart of poor Conn. 
My men shall aid yon in your search ; but you are familiar with 
every nook and corner in the whole county. You must direct it. 
Eobert Ffolliot awaits you at Suilabeg to lead the hunt. That is, 
after you have paid your melancholy respects to the Shaugraun. 

Mrs. O'K. No ; ye couldn't plaze him better than to go now. 
Bring back the news that you have revenged his murder, and he'll 
go under the sod wid a light heart. 

( All exit, except Keilly, Sullivan and Conn. 

Reilly. Away wid ye, while I go warn Harvey Duff. 

Both. Murther alive ! 

Conn. That's it. Murther alive ! That is what I am — a murther 
that will live to see you both hung for it. I'll be at your wake, 
and, begorra, I'll give ye both a fine character. ( They rush to the 
door.) Aisy, boys, aisy; the door is fast, and here's the key; 
ye're in a fine trap. Oho ! ye made a mistake last night. 

Reilly. Did ye forget that ye are dead ? 

Sullivan. Sure, if we made a mistake last night, we can repair 
it now. 

Conn. Oh, tare an' ages, what'U I do ? 

Reilly. We'll just lay ye out comfortable again, where ye wor ; 
divil a sowl will be any the wiser. 

Conn. Help I help! 

Reilly. They are" all miles away by this time ; screechin' won't 
save ye. 

Conn. Help! help! 

Sull. Shut the windy. I'll quiet him. 

Mol. (at window.) Drop those knives ! Do you hear what I 
said ? Drop those knives ! Now open the door. 

Conn. Yes, here's the kay. 

Mol. If you put your head outside that cabin, I'll put a bullet 
in it. 

Conn, (to Sullivan.) Help me up; the hangman will do as 
much for you some day. 

Mol. "What men are these ? 

Conn. A couple of Kinchella's chickens ; they know the road we 
want to travel. 

Mol. Take that pistol — do you know how to use it ? 



KIP VAX WINKLE. 15 

Conn. I'll try. 

Mol. Attention ! attention ! Put your hands in your pockets. 

Now take me right to where your employer, Mr. Kinchella, has im- 
prisoned Miss O'Neal and Moya, and if on the road you take your 
hands out of your pockets, or attempt to move beyond the reach of 
my sword, upon my honor, as an officer and a gentleman, I'll cut 
you down. Forward ! 

Conn. Attention ! Put your hand in my pocket. Now take me 
straight to where Moya Doolan 's shut up, and if you stir a peg out 
o' that on the road, by the piper that played before Julius Csesar, I'll 
save the county six feet of rope. 



RIP VAN WINKLE. 

PART I. 



The following scene is taken from the first act of the celebrated 
play of Kip Yan Winkle, as recited by Mr. Burbank, with the 
special permission of Mr. Joseph Jefferson. 

The language is hut slightly altered and adapted from the original, 
to make it more manageable as a monologue. 

The characters introduced are — 

Eip Yan Winkle. 

Derrick Yon Beekman, the villain of the play, icho endeavors 
to get Rip drunk, in order to have him sign away his property to 
Yon Beekman. 

Nick Yedder, the village inn-keeper. 

Scene. — The Village Inn. 

Present, Yon Beekman, alone. 

Enter Rip, shaking off the Children, ivho cling about him like flies 
to a lump of sugar 

Rip. (to the Children.) Say ! hullo, dere, du Yacob Stein ! du 
kleine spitzboob. Let dat dog Schneider alone, will you ? "Dere, 
I tole you dat all de time, if you dou'd let him alone he's goin' to 



16 RIP VAN WINKLE, 

"bide you! "Why, hullo, Derrick! how you was? Ach, my! 
Did you hear dem liddle fellers just now ? Dey most plague me 
crazy. Ha, ha, ha! I like to laugh my outsides in every time I 
tiuk about it. Just now, as we was comin' along togedder, Schnei- 
der and me — I don'd know if you know Schneider my self f Well, 
he's my dog. Well, dem liddle fellers, dey took Schneider, und— 
ha, ha, ha !— dey — ha, ha ! — dey tied a tin kettle mit Ms tail ! Ha, 
ha, ha ! My gracious ! of you had seen dat dog run ! My, how 
scared he was ! Tell, he was a-runnin' an' de kettle was a-bangin' 
an'— ha, ha, ha! you believe it, dat dog, he run right betwixt me 
an' my legs ! Ha, ha, ha ! He spill me und all dem liddle fellers 
down in de mud togedder. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Yon Beekman. Ah, yes, that's all right, Kip, very funny, very 
fanny ; but what do you say to a glass of liquor, Rip ? 

Rip. Well, now, Derrick, what do I generally say to a glass 1 
I generally say it's a good ting, don'd I ? Und I generally say a 
good deal more to what is in it, dan to de glass. 

Yon B. Certainly, certainly ! Say, hallo, there ! Kick Yedder, 
bring out a bottle of your best ! 

Rip. Dat 's right — till 'em up. You wouldn't belie ve it, Derrick, 
but dat is de first one I have had to-day. I guess maybe de 
reason is, I couldn't got it before. Ah, Derrick, my score is too 
big! Well, here is your good health und your family's— may 
they all live long und prosper. (They drink.) Ach! you may well 
smack your lips, und go ah, ah ! over dat liquor. You don'd give 
me such liquor like dat every day, Mck Yedder. Well, come on, 
fill 'em up again. Git out mit dat water, Kick Yedder, I don'd 
want no water in my liquor. Good liquor und water, Derrick, is 
just like man und wife, dey don'd agree well togedder — dat's me 
und my wife, any way. Well, come on again. Here is your good 
health und your family's, und may dey all live long und prosper ! 

Kick Yedder. That's right, Rip ; drink away, and " drown your 
sorrows in the flowing bowl." 

Rip. Drown my sorrows ? Ya, dat's all very well, but slie don'd 
drown. My wife is my sorrow und you can't drown her; she tried 
it once, but she couldn't do it. What, didn't you hear about dat, 
de day what Gretchen she bike to got drownded ? Ach, my ; dat's 
de funniest ting in de world. I'll tell you all about it. It was de 
same day what we got married. I bet you I don'd forgot dat day so 



KIT VAN WINKLE. 17 

long what I live. You know dat Hudson River what dey git dem 
boats over— well, dat's de same place. Well, you know dat boat 
what Gretchen she was a-goin' to come over in, dat got upsetted— 
ya, just went righd by der boddoui. But she wasn't in de boat. 
Oh, no ; if she had been in de boat, well, den, maybe she might 
have got drownded. You can't tell anyting at all about a ting 
like dat ! 

Yon B. Ah, no ; but I'm sure, Rip, if Gretchen were to fall into 
the water now, you would risk your life to save her. 

Rip. Would I? Well, I am not so sure about dat myself. 
When we was first got married ? Oh, ya ; I know I would have 
done it den, but I don'd know how it would be now. But it 
would be a good deal more my duty now as it was den. Don'd 
you know, Derrick, when a man gits married a long time— mit 
his wife, he gits a good deal attached mit her, und it would be a 
good deal more my duty now as it was den. But I don'd kno<v, 
Derrick. I am afraid if Gretchen should fall in de water now und 
should say, "Rip, Rip ! help me oud"— I should say, "Mrs. Yan 
Winkle, T will just go home und tink about it." Oh, no, Derrick ; 
if Gretchen fall in de water now she's got to swim, I told you dat — 
ha, ha, ha, ha! Hullo! dat's her a-coniin' now; I guess it's 
bedder I go oud! {Exit Rip. 



PART II. 

Shortly after his conversation with Yon Beekman, Rip's wife 
catches him carousing and dancing upon the village green with 
the pretty girls. She drives him away in no very gentle fashion, 
and he runs away from her only to go and get drunker than be- 
fore. Returning home after nightfall in a decidedly muddled con- 
dition, he puts his head through the open window at the rear, not 
observing his irate wife, who stands in ambush behind the clothes- 
bars with her ever-ready broomstick, to give him a warm recep- 
tion ; but seeing only his little daughter Meenie, of whom he is 
very fond, and who also loves him very tenderly, Rip says : 

Meenie ! Meenie, my darlin' ! 
Meenie. Hush-sh-h. 

(Shaking finger, to indicate the presence of her mother. 
Rip. Eh! what's de matter? I don'd see noting, my darlin'. 



18 RIP VAN WINKLE. 

Meenie. 'Sh-sh-sh! 

Kip. Eh! what? Say, Meenie, is de ole wild cat home ? (Gret- 
Chen catches him quickly by the hair.) Oh, oh! say, is dat you, 
Gretcheu ? Say, dere, my darlin', my angel, don'd do dat. Let 
go my head, wond you ? Well, den, hold on to it so long what you 
like. (Gretchen releases him.) Dere, now, look at dat, see what 
you done— you gone pull out a whole handful of hah*. "What you 
want to do a ting like dat for ? You must want a bald-headed 
husband, don'd you ? 

Gretchen. Who was that you called a wild cat ? 

Kip. Who was dat I call a wild cat? Well, now, let me see, 
who was dat I call a wild cat ? Dat must a' been de same time I 
come in de winder dere, wasn't it ? Yes, I know, it was de same 
time. Well, now, let me see. {Suddenly.) It was de dog Schnei- 
der dat I call it. 

Gretchen. The dog Schneider? That's a likely story. 

Rip. Why, of course it is a likely story— ain't he my dog ? Well ■, 
den, I call him a wild cat just so much what I like, so dere now. 
(Gretchen begins to weep.) Oh, well; dere, now, don'd you cry, 
don'd you cry, Gretchen ; you hear what I said ? Lisden now. If 
you don'd cry, I nefer drink anoder drop of liquor in my life. 

Gretchen. {crying. ) Oh, Rip ! you have said so so many, many 
times, and you never kept your word yet. 

Rip. Well, I say it dis time, and I mean it. 

Gretchen. Oh, Rip ! if I could only trust you. 

Rip. You mustn't suspect me. Can't you see repentance in 
my eye ? 

Grktchen. Rip, if you will only keep your word, I shall be the 
happiest woman in the world. 

Rip. You can believe it. I nefer drink anoder drop so long 
what I live, if you don'd cry. 

Gretchen. Oh, Rip, how happy we shall be ! And you'll get 
back all the village, Rip, just as you used to have it ; and you'll 
fix up our little house so nicely ; and you and I, and our darling 
little Meenie, here— how happy we shall be ! 

Rip. Dere, dere, now ! you can be just so happy what you like. 
Go in de odder room, go along mit you ; I come in dere pooty 
quick. {Exit Gretchen and Meenie.) My! I swore off fon 
drinkin' so many, many times, and I never kep' my word yet. 



RIP VAN WINKLE. 



19 



(Taking out bottle.) I don'd believe dere is more as one good 
drink in dat bottle, anyway. It's a pity to waste it ! Yon goin' 
to drink dat? Well, now, if you do, it is de last one, remember 
dat, old feller. Well, here is your goot held, und— 

Enter Gretchen, suddenly, icho snatches the bottle from him. 

Gretchen. Oh, you brute ! you paltry thief! 

Rip. Hold on dere, my dear, you will spill de liquor. 

Gretchen. Yes, I will spill it, you drunken scoundrel ! (Throw- 
ing away the bottle.) That's the last drop you ever drink under 
this roof. 

Rip. (slowly, after a moment's silence, as if stunned by her 
severity.) Eh! what? 

Gretchen. Out, I say ! you drink no more here. 

Rip. What? Gretchen, are you goin to drive me away? 

Gretchen. Yes ! Acre by acre, foot by foot, you have sold 
everything that ever belonged to you for liquor. Thank Heaven 
this house is mine, and you can't sell it. 

Rip. (rapidly sobering, as he begins to realize the gravity of the 
situation.) Yours? yours? Ya, you are right— it is yours; I have 
got no home. (In broken tones, almost sobbing.) But where will 
I go? 

Gretchen. Anywhere ! out into the storm, to the mountains. 
There's the door — never let your face darken it again. 

Rip. What, Gretchen ! are you goin' to drive me away like a 
dog on a night like dis ? 

Gretchen. Yes; out with you! You have no longer a share 
in me or mine. (Breaking down and sobbing with the intensity of 
her passion. 

Rip. (very slowly and quietly, but with great intensity.) Well, 
den, I will go ; you have drive me away like a dog, Gretchen, and 
I will go. But remember, Gretchen, after what you have told me 
here to-night, I can never come back. You have open de door for 
me to go ; you will never open it for me to return. But, Gretchen, 
you tell me dat I have no longer a share here. (Points at the 
child, who kneels crying at his feet.) Good-by, (tcith much emo- 
tion) my darlin'. God bless you ! Don'd you nefer forgit your fader. 
Gretchen, (with a great sob) I wipe de disgrace from your door. 
Good-by, good-by ! (Exit Rip into the storm. 



20 THE DEATH OF THE OLD SQUIRE. 

THE DEATH OF THE OLD SQUIRE. 

Head ivilh great success by Charlotte Cushman. 

'Twas a wild, mad kind of night, as black as the bottomless pit ; 
The wind was howling away like a Bedlamite in a lit, 
Tearing the ash boughs oft", and mowing the poplars down, 
In the meadows beyond the old flour mill, where you turn off to 
the town. 

And the rain (well, it did rain) dashing against the window glass, 
And deluging on the roof, as the Devil were come to pass ; 
The gutters were running in floods outside the stable door, 
And the spouts splashed from the tiles, as they would never give 
o'er. 

Lor', how the winders rattled ! you'd almost ha' thought that 

thieves 
"Were wrenching at the shutters, while a ceaseles pelt of leaves 
Flew to the doors in gusts ; and I could hear the beck 
Falling so loud I knew at once it was up to a tall man's neck. 

Vc was huddling in the harness-room, by a little scrap of fire, 
And Tom, the coachman, he was there, a-practicing for the choir; 
But it sounded dismal, anthem did, for Squire was dying fast, 
And the doctor said, do what he would, Squire's breaking up at last. 
The death-watch, sure enough, ticked loud just over th' owd 

mare's head, 
Though he had never once been heard up there since master's boy 

lay dead ; 
And the only sound, beside Tom's toon, was the stirring in the 

stalls, 
And the gnawing and the scratching of the rats in the owd walls. 

"We couldn't hear Death's foot pass by, but we knew that he was 

near, 
And the chill rain and the wind and cold made us all shake with 

fear; 
We listened to the clock up-stairs, 'twas breathing soft and low, 
For the nurse said, at the turn of night the old Squire's soul would go. 



THE DEATH OF THE OLD SQUIBE. 21 

Master had been a wildish man, and led a roughish life ; 
Didn't he shoot the Bowton squire, who dared write to his wife ? 
He beat the Kads at Hindon Town, I heard, in twenty-nine, 
When every pail in market place was brimmed with red port wine. 

And as for hunting, bless your soul, why, for forty year or more 
He'd kept the Marley hounds, man, as his fayther did afore ; 
Aud now to die, and in his bed— the season just begun — 
" It made him fret," the doctor said, " as it might do any one." 

And when the young sharp lawyer came to see him sign his will, 
Squire made me blow my horn outside as we were going to kill; 
And we turned the hounds out in the court — that seemed to do 

him good ; 
For he swore, and sent us off to seek a fox in Thornhill Wood. 

But then the fever it rose high and he would go see the room 
"Where mistress died ten years ago when Lammastide shall come ; 
I mind the year, because our mare at Salisbury broke down ; 
Moreover, the town-hall was burnt at Steeple Dinton Town. 

It might be two, or half-past two, the wind seemed quite asleep ; 
Tom, he was off, but I, awake, sat watch and ward to keep ; 
The moon was up, quite glorious like, the rain no longer fell, 
When all at once out clashed and clanged the rusty turret bell. 

That hadn't been heard for twenty year, not since the Luddite days. 
Tom he leaped up, and I leaped up, for all the house a-blaze 
Had sure not scared us half so much, and out we ran like mad, 
I, Tom and Joe, the whipper-in, and t' little stable lad. 

"He's killed himself," that's the idea that came into my head; 
I felt as sure as though I saw Squire Barrowly was dead ; 
When all at once a door flew back, and he met us face to face ; 
His scarlet coat was on his back, and he looked like the old race. 

The nurse was clinging to his knees, and crying like a child ; 
The maids were sobbing on the stairs, for he looked fierce and 

wild; 
" Saddle me Lightning Bess, my men," that's what he said to me ; 
" The moon is up, we're sure to find at Stop or Etterly. 

" Get out the dogs ; I'm well to-night, and young again and sound, 
I'll have a run once more before they put me under ground ; 



22 THE DEATH OP THE OLD SQUIRE. 

They brought my father home feet first, and it never shall be said 
That his son Joe, who rode so straight, died quietly in his bed. 

" Brandy V he cried ; " a tumbler full, you women howling there ;" 
Then clapped the old black velvet cap upon his long gray hair, 
Thrust on his boots, snatched down his whip, though he was old 

and weak ; 
There was a devil in his eye that would not let me speak. 

We loosed the dogs to humor him, and sounded on the horn ; 
The moon was up above the woods, just east of Haggard Bourne; 
I buckled Lightning's throat-lash fast ; the Squire was watching 

me; 
He let the stirrups down himself so quick, yet carefully. 

Then up he got and spurred the mare, and, ere I well could mount, 
He drove the yard gate open, man, and called to old Dick Blount, 
Our huntsman, dead five years ago — for the fever rose again, 
And was spreading like a flood of flame fast up into his brain. 

Then off he flew before the dogs, yelling to call us on, 

"While we stood there, all pale and dumb, scarce knowing he was 

gone ; 
"We mounted, and below the hill we saw the fox break out, 
And down the covert ride we heard the old Squire's parting shout. 

And in the moonlit meadow mist we saw him fly the rail 
Beyond the hurdles by the beck, just half way down the vale ; 
I saw him breast fence after fence — nothing could turn him back ; 
And in the moonlight after him streamed out the brave old pack. 

; Twas like a dream, Tom cried to me, as we rode free and fast, 
Hoping to turn him at the brook, that could not well be passed, 
For it was swollen with the rain ; but ah, 'twas not to be ; 
^Nothing could stop old Lightning Bess but the broad breast of the 



The hounds swept on, and well in front the mare had got her 

stride ; 
She broke across the fallow land that runs by the down side ; 
We pulled up on Chalk Linton Hill, and, as we stood us there, 
Two fields beyond we saw the Squire fall stone dead from the mare. 



SCHNEIDER'S DESCRIPTION OF THE PLAY OP LEAH. 23 

Then she swept on, and in fall cry the hounds went out of sight ; 
A cloud came over the broad moon and something dimmed ouf 

sight, 
As Tom and I bore master home, both speaking under breath ; 
And that's the way I saw th' owd Squire ride boldly to his death. 



SCHNEIDER'S DESCRIPTION OF THE PLAY OF 
LEAH. 

I vant to dold you vat it is, dot's a putty nice play. De 
first dime dot you see Leah, she runs cross a pridge, mit 
some fellers chasm' her mit putty big shticks. Dey ketch 
her right in de middle of der edge, und her leader (dot's de 
villen) he sez of her, u Dot it's better ven she dies, und dot 
he coodent allow it dot she can lip'' Und de oder fellers 
hollers out, " So ve villj" "Give her some deth;" "Kill 
her putty quick;" " Shmack her of der jaw," und such 
dings ; und chust as dey vill kill her, de priest says of dem, 
" Don'd you do dot/' und dey shtop dot putty quick. In 
der nexd seen, dot Leah meets Rudolph (dot's her feller) 
in de voods. Before dot he comes in, she sits of de bottom 
of a cross, und she don't look putty lifety, und she says, 
" Rudolph, Rudolph, how is dot, dot you don'd come und 
see aboud me ? You didn't shpeak of me for tree days 
long. I vant to dold you vot it is, dot ain't some luf. I 
don'd like dot." Yell, Rudolph he don'd vas dere, so he 
coodent sed something. But ven he comes in, she dells of 
him dot she lufs him orful, und he says dot he guess he 
lnfs her orful too, und vants to know vood she leef dot 
place, und go oud in some oder country mit him. Und she 
says, ll I told you, I vill ;" und he says, " Dot's all right," 
und he tells her he vill meet her soon, und dey vill go vay 
dogedder. Den he Jcisses her und goes oud, und she feels 
honkey dorey 'bout dot. 



24 SCHNEIDER'S DESCRIPTION OF THE PLAT OF LEAH. 

Veil, in der nexd seen, Rudolph's old man finds oud all 
aboud dot, und he don'd feel putty goot; und he says of 
Rudolph, "Vood you leef me, und go mit dot gal fund 
Rudolph feels putty bad. He don'd know vot he shall do. 
Und der old man he says, " I dold you vot I'll do. De 
skoolmaster (dot's de villen) says dot she mighd dook 
some money to go vay. Now, Rudolph, my poy, I'll give 
de skoolmaster some money to gif do her, und if she don'd 
dook dot money, I'll let you marry dot gal." Ven Rudolph 
hears dis, he chumps mit joyness, und says, " Fader, fader, 
dot's all righd. I baed you anydings she woodent dook 
dot money." Yell, de old man gif de skoolmaster de money, 
und dells him dot he shall offer dot of her. Yell, dot pluddy 
skoolmaster comes back und says dot Leah dook dot gold 
righd avay ven she didn't do dot. Den de old man says, 
" Didn't I told you so ?'• und Rudolph gets so vild dot he 
svears dot she can't haf someding more to do mit him. So 
ven Leah vill meet him in de voods, he don'd vas dere, und 
she feels orful, und goes avay. Bime-by she comes up to 
Rudolph's house. She feels putty bad, and she knocks of 
de door. De old man comes oud, und says, " Got oud of 
dot, you orful vooman. Don'd you come round after my 
poy again, else I put you in de dooms." Und she says, 
u Chust let me see Rudolph vonce, und I vill vander avay." 
So den Rudolph comes oud, und she vants to rush of his 
arms, but dot pluddy fool voodent allow dot. He chucks 
her avay, und says, " Don'd you touch me uf you please, 
you deceitfulness gal." I dold you vat it is, dot looks ruff 
for dot poor gal. Und she is extonished, und says, " Yot 
is dis aboud dot?" Und Rudolph, orful mad, says, " Got 
oudsiedt, you ignomonous vooman." Und she feels so orful 
she coodent said a vord, und she goes oud. 

Afterwards, Rudolph gits married to anoder gal in a 
shurch. Yell, Leah, who is vandering eferyveres, happens 
to go in dot shurch-yard to cry, chust at de same dime of 
Rudolph's marriage, which she don'd know someding 



SCHNEIDER'S DESCRIPTION OF THE PLAY OF LEAH. 25 

aboud. Putty soon she bears de organ, und she says dere 
is some beeples gitten married, und dot it vill do her un- 
happiuess goot if she sees dot. So she looks in de vinder, 
und ven she sees who dot is, my graciousness, don'd she 
holler, und shvears vengeance ! Putty soon Rudolph 
chumps oud indo der shurch-yard to got some air. He says 
he don'd feel putty goot. Putty soon dey see each oder, 
und dey had a orful dime. He says of her, " Leah, how is 
dot you been here ?" Und she say mit big scornfulness, 
" How is dot, you got cheek to talk of me afder dot vitch 
you hafe done V Den he says, " Veil, vot for you dook 
dot gold, you false-hearted leetle gal?" Und she says, 
" Vot gold is dot? I didn't dook some gold." Und he 
says, " Don'd you dold a lie aboud dot?" She says slow- 
fully, " I dold you I didn't dook some gold. Vot gold is 
dot ?" Und den Kudolph tells her all aboud dot, und she 
says, " Dot is a orful lie. I didn't seen some gold f. und 
she adds mit much sarkasmness, " Und you beliefed I dook 
dot gold? Dot's de vorst I efer heered. Now, on accound 
of dot, I vill give you a few gurses." Und den she svears 
mit orful voices dot Mister Kain's gurse should git on him, 
und dot he coodent never git any happiness efery vere, no 
matter vere he is. Den she valks off. Veil, den a long 
dime passes avay, und den you see Rudolph's farm. He 
has got a nice vife, und a putiful leetle child. Purty soon 
Leah comes in, being shased, as ushual, by fellers mit 
sh ticks. She looks like she didn't ead someding for two 
monds. Rudolph's wife sends off dot mop, und Leah gits 
avay again. Den dot nice leetle child comes oud, und 
Leah comes back ; und ven she sees dot child, don'd she 
feel orful aboud dot, und she says mit affectfulness, " Come 
here, leedle child, I vooden'd harm you f und dot nice 
leedle child goes righd up, und Leah grabs her in her arms, 
und gries, und kisses her. Oh, my graciousness, don'd she 
grie aboud dot ! 
Und den she say vile she gries, u Leedle childs, don'd 



26 LOVE ON THE HALF-SHELL. 

you got some names V Und dot leedle child shpeaks oud 
so uice, piess her leedle hard, und says, u Oh, yes. My 
name, dot 's Leah, and my papa tells me dot I shall pray 
for you efery nighd." Oh, my goodnessness, don'd Leah 
gry orful ven she hears dot ! I dold you vot it is, dot's a 
shplaindid ding. Und quick comes dem tears in your 
eyes, und you look up at de vail, so dot nohody can'd see 
dot, und you make oud you don'd care aboud it. But your 
eyes gits fulled up so quick dot you couldn'd keep dem in, 
und de tears comes down of your face like a shnow-storm, 
und den you don'd care if eferybody sees dot. Und Leah 
kisses her und gries like dot her heart's broke, und she 
dooks off dot gurse from Rudolph and goes avay. De child 
den dell her fader und muder aboud dot, und dey pring 
her pack. Den dot mop comes back und vill kill her again, 
but she exposes dot skoolmaster, dot villain, und dot fixes 
him. Den she falls down in Eudolph's arms, und your eyes 
gits failed up again, and you can'd see someding more. 
You couldn't help dot any vay. Und if I see a gal vot don'd 
gry in dot piece, I voodn't marry dot gal, efen if her fader 
owned a pig prewery. But I told you vat it is, dot's a 
putty piece. Uncle Schneider. 



LOVE ON THE HALF-SHELL. 

D. T>. PROUDriT. 

A Ballad of Oyster Bay. 
[This selection should be read with a moderate stutter.] 

I ain't anybody in particular, 

And never caV elated to be ; 
I'm aware that rnv views doesn't signify 

Except to Belinda and me ; 
But I'm heavy on openin' oysters— 

In regards to them I am free 



LOVE ON THE HALF-SHELL. 27 

To remark that for shellin' of Blue Points, 
There is few that can lay over me. 

Excuse my perfessional blowing 

It isn't the point I would make, 
But Fin feelin' particular airy, 

And uncommonly wide awake ; 
And I've got to be talkin' about it, 

It won't lay quiet, you see ; 
"Which the name of the girl is Belinda, 

That's took an affection for me. 

It's surprisin' — the fact is surprisin' — 

Just cast your eye over this frame I 
Is there anything 'specially gallus 

"Which characterizes the same ? 
As a model for makin' wax riggers 

I shouldn't make much of a stir ; 
But I ain't a-goin' to worry, 

So long as I'm pleasin' to her. 

An impediment hinders my speakhr* 

As I should admire to do ; 
As an elocutin' perfessor 

My scholars would likely be few ; 
But she said, when I mentioned it to her, 

""Why, dear, don't you fret, for, you see, 
You tell me you love me, my darling, 

And your voice is like music to me." 

I was never indicted for intellect, 

Nor never arrested for cheek ; 
But I'm holdin' my head elevated 

Since Thursday night was a week ; 
For that wus the date when Belinda 

Allowed she was partial to me, 
And give me a relish for livin', 

And a notion of workin' for she. 

She isn't egzactly a beauty, 
And also she uses a crutch ; 



28 FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 

But the eyes of that dear little cripple 
The heart of an oyster would touch. 

They is wonderful soft, and so lovin', 
A good-lookin' face on the whole, 

Fur the light in them eyes seems to travel 
Eight out from a beautiful soul. 

If she had been lively and hearty 

I couldn't have helped her, you see ; 
And similar, then, it ain't likely 

That she would have took up with me ; 
And I shouldn't have knowed her and loved her, 

So patient and gentle and sweet ; 
And I wish that the whole of creation 

I could lay at her poor little feet. 

I was never so chirk and galloptious, 

And never before felt so spry ; 
And I've just took to noticm' lately 

How amazin'ly blue is the sky ; 
And how gay is the stars in the night-time, 

A-winkin' and glimmerin' down — 
Good gracious ! I come near forgettm' 

That barrel of oysters for Brown ! 



FATHEK PHIL'S COLLECTION. 

SAMUEL T.OVEH. 

Abridged for Public Beading. 

Father Blake was more familiarly known by the name 
of Father Phil. By either title, or in whatever capacity, the 
worthy Father had great influence over his parish, and 
there was a free-and-easy way with him. even in doing the 
most solemn duties, which agreed wonderfully with the 
devil-may-care spirit of Paddy. Stiff and starched for- 
mality in any way is repugnant to the very nature of Irish- 
men. There are forms, it is true, and many in the Romish 



FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 29 

Church, but they are not cold forms, but attractive rather, 
to a sensitive people ; besides, I believe those very forms, 
when observed the least formally, are the most influential 
on the Irish. 

With all his intrinsic worth, Father Phil was, at the same 
time, a strange man in exterior manners ; for with an abun- 
dance of real piety, he had an abruptness of delivery, and 
a strange way of mixing up an occasional remark to his 
congregation in the midst of the celebration of the mass, 
which might well startle a stranger ; but this very want of 
formality made him beloved by the people, and they would 
do ten times as much for Father Phil as for the severe 
Father Dominick. 

On the Sunday in question Father Phil intended deliver- 
ing an address to his flock from the altar, urging them to 
the necessity of bestirring themselves in the repairs of the 
chapel, which was in a very dilapidated condition, and at 
one end let in the rain through its worn-out thatch. A 
subscription was necessary ; and to raise this among a very 
impoverished people was no easy matter. The weather 
happened to be unfavorable, which was most favorable to 
Father Phil's purpose, for the rain dropped its arguments 
through the roof upon the kneeling people below, in the 
most convincing manner ; and as they endeavored to get 
out of the wet, they pressed round the altar as much as 
they could, for which they were reproved very smartly by 
his Reverence in the very midst of the mass. These inter- 
ruptions occurred sometimes in the most serious places, 
producing a ludicrous effect, of which the worthy Father 
was quite unconscious, in his great anxiety to make the 
people repair the chapel. 

A big woman was elbowing her way towards the rails of 
the altar, and Father Phil, casting a sidelong glance at her, 
sent her to the right-about, while he interrupted his appeal 
to Heaven to address her thus : 

" Agnus Dei— You'd betther jump over the rails of the 



30 FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 

althar, I think. Go along out o' that, there's plenty & 
room in the chapel below there—" 

Then he would turn to the altar, and proceed with the 
service, till, turning again to the congregation, he per- 
ceived some fresh offender. 

" Orate, f retires 1— Will you mind what I say to you, 
and go along out o' that ? There's room below there. Thrue 
for you, Mrs. Finn— it's a shame for him to be thraraplin' 
on you. Go along, Darby Casy, down there, and kneel in 
the rain— it's a pity you haven't a decent woman's cloak 
under you, indeed ! Orate, fratres /" 

***** * * 

Again he turned to pray, and after some time he made 
an interval in the service to address his congregation on 
the subject of the repairs, and produced a paper contain- 
ing the names of subscribers to that pious work who had 
already contributed, by way of example to those who 
had not. 

" Here it is," said Father Phil— " here it is, and no deny- 
ing it— down in black and white ; but if they who give are 
down in black, how much blacker are those who have not 
given at all ! But I hope they will be ashamed of them- 
selves when I howld up those to honor who have contrib- 
uted to the uphowlding of the house of God. And isn't it 
ashamed o' yourselves you ought to be, to lave His house 
in such a condition 1 and doesn't it rain a'most every Sun- 
day, as if He wished to remind you of your duty I aren't 
you wet to the skin a'most every Sunday ? Oh, God is 
good to you ! to put you in mind of your duty, giving you 
such bitther cowlds that you are coughing and sneezin' every 
Sunday to that degree that you can't hear the blessed 
mass for a comfort and a benefit to you ; and so you'll go 
on sneezin' until you put a good thatch on the place, and 
prevent the appearance of the evidence from Heaven 
against you every Sunday, which is condemning you before 
your faces, and behind your backs too, for don't I see this 



FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 31 

minute a strain e o' wather that might turn a mill running 
down Micky Mackavoy's back, between the collar of his 
coat and his shirt V 

Here a laugh ensued at the expense of Micky Mackavoy, 
who certainly was under a very heavy drip from the im- 
perfect roof. . 

" And is it laughin' you are, you haythens ?" said Father 
Phil, reproving the merriment which he himself had pur- 
posely created, that he might reprove it. " Laughin' is it 
you are, at your backslidings and insensibility to the honor 
of God— laughin 7 because when you come here to be saved, 
you are lost entirely with the wet j and how, I ask you, 
are my words of comfort to enter your hearts when the 
rain is pouring down your backs at the same time I Sure 
I have no chance of turning your hearts while you are 
undher rain that might turn a mill — but once put a good 
roof on the house, and I will inundate you with piety ! 
Maybe it's Father Dominick you would like to have com- 
ing among you, who would grind your hearts to powdher 
with his heavy words." (Here a low murmur of dissent ran 
through the throng.) " Ha, ha ! so you wouldn't like it, I 
see — very well, very well — take care, then, for if I find you 
insensible to my moderate reproofs, you hard-hearted 
haythens, you malefacthors and cruel persecuthors, that 
won't put your hands in your pockets because your mild 
aud quiet poor fool of a pasthor has no tongue in his head ! 
I say, your mild, quiet poor fool of a pasthor (for I know 
my own faults partly, God forgive me !) and I can't spake to 
you as you deserve, you hard-living vagabonds, that are as 
insensible to your duties as you are to the weather. I wish it 
was sugar or salt that you were made of, and then the rain 
might melt you if I couldn't ; but no, them naked rafthers 
grins in your face to no purpose — you chate the house of 
God— but take care, maybe you won't chate the divil so 
aisy." (Here there was a sensation.) "Ha, ha! that 
makes you open your ears, does it ? More shame for you ; 



32 FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 

you ought to despise that dirty enemy of man, and depend 
on something better — but I see I must call you to a sense 
of your situation with the bottomless pit undher you, and 
no roof over you. Oh, dear ! dear 1 dear ! I'm ashamed 
of you — throth, if I had time and sthraw enough, I'd rather 
thatch the place myself than lose my time talking to youj 
sure the place is more like a stable than a chapel. Oh, 
think of that ! the house of God to be like a stable ! for 
though our Redeemer was born in a stable, that is no rea- 
son why you are to keep his house always like one. 

" And now I will read you the list of subscribers, and it 
will make you ashamed when you hear the names ot several 
good and worthy Protestants in the parish, and out of it, 
too, who have given more than the Catholics." 



SUBSCRIPTION LIST 
For the Repairs and Enlargement of Balltsloughgutthery Chapel. 

Philip Blake, P. P. 

Micky Hickey, £0 7s. 6d. " He might as well have 
made it ten shillings ; but half a loaf is betther than no 
bread." 

" Plaze your Reverence," says Mick, from the body of 
the chapel, " sure seven and sixpence is more than the half 
of ten shillings." (A laugh.) 

" Oh, how witty you are ! Faith, if you knew your 
prayers as well as your arithmetic, it would be betther for 
you, Micky." 

Here the Father turned the laugh against Mick." 

Billy Riley, £0 3s. M. u Of course he means to sub- 
scribe again !" 

John Dwyer, £0 155. Od. " That's something like ! I'll 
be bound he's only keeping back the odd five shillings for 
a brush full o' paint for the althar ; it's as black as a crow, 
instead o' being white as a dove." 



FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 33 

He then hurried ever rapidly some small subscribers as 
follows : 

Peter Heffennan, £0 J 5. M. 

James Murphy, £0 25. 6d. 

Mat Donovan, £0 Is. 3d. 

Luke Dannely, £0 35. Od. 

Jack Quigly, £0 2s. Id. 

Pat Finnegan, £0 2s. 2d. 

Edward O'Connor, Esq., £2 Os. Od. " There's for you! 
Edward O'Connor, Esq.— a Protestant in the parish — two 
pounds." 

" Long life to him !" cried a voice in the chapel. 

" Amen !" said Father Phil ; " I'm not ashamed to be 
clerk to so good a prayer." 

Nicholas Fagan, £0 2s. 6d. 

Young Nicholas Fagan, £0 5s. Od. " Young Nick is bet- 
ther than ould Nick, you see." 

Tim Doyle, £0 7s. Od. 

Owny Doyle, £1 Os. Od. " Well done, Owny na Coppal— 
you deserve to prosper, for you make good use of your 
thrivings." 

Simon Leary, £0 2s. 6d. ; Bridget Murphy, £0 10s. Od. 
"You ought to be ashamed o' yourself, Simon: a lone 
widow woman gives more than you." 

******* 

Jude Moylan, £0 5s. Od. " Very good, Judy, the women 
are behaving like gentlemen ; they'll have their reward in 
the next world." 

Pat Finnerty, £0 8s. 4d. u I'm not sure if it is 8s. M. or 
3s. 4d., for the figure is blotted, but I believe it is 8s. 4tf." 

" It was three and fourpince I gave your Keverence," said 
Pat from the crowd. 

" Well, Pat, as I said eight and fourpence, you must not 
let me go back o' my word, so bring me five shillings next 
week." 

" Sure, you wouldn't have me pay for a blot, sir ?" 



34 FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 

" Yis, I would; that's the rule of backgammon, you know, 
Pat. When I hit the mark, you pay for it." 

Here his Reverence turned around, as if looking for some 
one, and called out, " Ranerty ! Raflerty ! RafTerty ! Where 
are you, Eaflerty f 

An old gray-headed man appeared, bearing a large plate, 
and Father Phil continued — 

" There now, be active — I'm sending him amoDg you, 
good people, and such as cannot give as much as you 
would like to be read before your neighbors, give what lit- 
tle you can towards the repairs, and I will continue to read 
out the names by way of encouragement to you — and 
the next name I see is that of Squire Egan. Long life to 
him !" 

Squire Egan, £5 Os. Od. " Squire Egan— five pounds 
— listen to that— a Protestant in the parish— five pounds ! 
Faith, the Protestants will make you ashamed of your- 
selves if you don't take care." 

Mrs. Flanagan, £2 Os. Od. u Not her own parish, either 
— a fine lady." 

James Milligan of Roundtown, £1 Os. Od. " And here I 
must remark that the people of Roundtown have not been 
backward in coming forward on this occasion. I have a 
long list from Roundtown— I will read it separate." He 
then proceeded at a great pace, jumbling the town and the 
pounds and the people in the most extraordinary manner : 
" James Milligan of Roundtown, one pound ; Darby Daly 
of Roundtown, one pound; Sam Finnegan of Roundtown, 
one pound ; James Casey of Roundpound, one town ; Kit 
Dwyer of Townpound, one round— pound, I mane; Pat 
Roundpound — Pounden, I mane— Pat Pounden a pound of 
Poundtown also— there's an example for you ! — 

u But what are you about, Rafferty ? I don't like the 
sound of that plate of yours — you are not a good gleaner- 
go up first into the gallery there, where I see so many 
good-looking bonnets— I suppose they will give something 



FATHER PHIL'S COLLECTION. 35 

to keep their bonnets out of the rain, for the wet will be 
into the gallery next Sunday if they don't. I think that is 
Kitty Crow I see, getting her bit of silver ready ; them 
ribbons of yours cost a thrifle, Kitty— Well, good Chris- 
tians, here is more of the subscription for you." 

Matthew Lavery, £0 2s. 6d. "■ He doesn't belong to 
Roundtown — Roundtown will be renowned in future ages 
for the support of the Church. Mark my words ! Round- 
town will prosper from this day out— Roundtown will be a 
rising place." 

Mark Hennessy, £0 2s. 6d; Luke Clancy, £0 25. 6d.; 
John Doolin, £0 2s. 6d. " One would think they had all 
agreed only to give two and. sixpence apiece. And they 
comfortable men, too ! And look at their names — Matthew, 
Mark, Luke and John— the names of the blessed Evangel- 
ists, and only ten shillings among them. Oh, they are 
apostles not worthy the name— we'll call them the poor 
apostles from this out !" (Here a low laugh ran through 
the chapel.) ** Do you hear that, Matthew, Mark, Luke 
and John ? Faith ! I can toll you that name will stick to 
you." (Here the laugh was louder.) 

A voice, when the laugh subsided, exclaimed, " Fll make 
it ten shillin's, your Reverence." 

" Who's that ?" said Father Phil. 

"Hennessy, your Reverence." 

" Very well, Mark. I suppose Matthew, Luke and John 
will follow your example ?" 

" We will, your Reverence." 

" Ha ! I thought you made a mistake ; we'll call you now 
the faithful apostles — and 1 think the change in your name 
is better than seven and sixpence apiece to you." 

" 1 see you in the gallery there, Rafferty. What do you 
pass that well-dressed woman for f thry back— Ha ! see 
that, she had her money ready if you only asked her for it 
— don't go by that other woman there — Oh, ho ! So you 
won't give anything, ma'am ! You ought to be ashamed 



36 FATHER THIL'S COLLECTION. 

of yourself. There is a woman with an elegant sthraw 
bonnet, and she won't give a farthing. Well now, afther 
that, remember— I give it from the althar, that from this 
day out sthraw bonnets pay fi'penny pieces." 

Thomas Durfy, Esq., £1 05. Od. " It's not his parish, 
and he 7 s a brave gentleman." 

Miss Fanny Dawson, £ 1 05. Od. " A Protestant out of 
the parish, and a sweet young lady, God bless her! Oh, 
faith, the Protestants is shaming you !" 

Dennis Fannin, £0 7s. M. " Very good indeed, for a 
working mason." 

Jemmy Riley, £0 55. Od. "Not bad for a hedge car- 
penther." 

" I gave you ten, plaze your Reverence," shouted Jem- 
my ; " and by the same token, you may remember it was 
on the Nativity of the blessed Vargin, sir, I gave you the 
second five shiliin's." 

" So you did, Jemmy," cried Father Phil ; " I put a little 
cross before it, to remind me of it ; but I was in a hurry to 
make a sick call when you gave it to me, and forgot it 
afther : and indeed myself doesn't know what I did with 
that same five shillings." 

Here a pallid woman, who was kneeling near the rails of 
the altar, uttered an impassioned blessing, and exclaimed, 
" Oh, that was the very five shillings, I'm sure, you gave 
to me that very day, to buy some little comforts for my 
poor husband, who was dying in the fever !" and the poor 
woman burst into loud sobs as she spoke. 

A deep thrill of emotion ran through the flock as this ac- 
cidental proof of their poor pastor's beneficence burst upon 
them; and as an affectionate murmur began to rise above 
the silence which that emotion produced, the burly Father 
Philip blushed like a girl at this publication of his charity, 
and even at the foot of that altar where he stood, felt 
something like shame in being discovered in the commis- 
sion of that virtue so highly commended by the Providence 



A LITEKAKY NIGHTMAKE. 37 

to whose worship that altar was raised. He uttered a 
hasty " Whisht, whisht !" and waved with his outstretched 
hands his flock into silence. 

In an instant one of those sudden changes so common to 
an Irish assembly, and scarcely credible to a stranger, took 
place. The multitude was hushed, the grotesque of the 
subscription list had passed away and was forgotten, and 
that same man and that same multitude stood in altered 
relations — tliey were again a reverent flock, and lie once 
more a solemn pastor; the natural play of his nation's 
mirthful sarcasm was absorbed in a moment in the sacred- 
ness of his office ; and, with a solemnity befitting the 
highest occasion, he placed his hands together before his 
breast, and, raising his eyes to Heaven, he poured forth 
his sweet voice, with a tone of the deepest devotion, in that 
reverential call for prayer, " Orate, fr aires V 

The sound of a multitude gently kneeling down followed, 
like the soft breaking of a quiet sea on a sandy beach ; and 
when Father Philip turned to the altar to pray, his pent-up 
feelings found vent in tears, and while he prayed he wept. 
• I believe such scenes as this are of not unfrequent occur- 
rence in Ireland — that country so long suffering, so much 
maligned, and so little understood. 

Oh, rulers of Ireland ! why have you not sooner learned 
to lead that people by love, whom all your severity has 
been unable to drive f 



A LITERARY NIGHTMARE. 

MARK TWAIN. 

Will the reader please to cast his eye over the following 
verses, and see if he can discover anything harmful in them I 
" Conductor, when yon receive a fare, 
Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! 
A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, 



38 A LITERARY NIGHTMARE. 

A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, 
A pink trip slip for a three-cent fare, 
Punch in the presence of the passenjare ! 

CHORUS. 

Punch, brothers ! punch with care ! 

Punch in the presence of the passenjare !" 
I came across these jingling rhymes in a newspaper, a 
little while ago, and read them a couple of times. They 
took instant and entire possession of me. All through 
breakfast they went waltzing through my brain ; and when, 
at last, I rolled up my napkin, I could not tell whether I 
had eaten anything or not. 1 had carefully laid out my 
day's work the day before — a thrilling tragedy in the novel 
which I am writing. I went to my den to begin my deed 
of blood. I took up my pen ; but all I could get it to say 
was, " Punch in the presence of the passenjare." I fought 
hard for an hour, but it was useless. My head kept hum- 
ming, u A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, a buff trip 
slip for a six-cent fare," and so on and so on, without peace 
or respite. The day's work was ruined — I could see that 
plainly enough. I gave up and drifted down town, and 
presently discovered that my feet were keeping time to 
that relentless jingle. When I could stand it no longer I 
altered my step. But it did no good ; those rhymes ac- 
commodated themselves to the new step, and went on har- 
assing me just as before. I returned home, and suffered 
all the afternoon ; suffered all through an unconscious and 
unrefreshing dinner ; suffered, and cried, and jingled all 
through the evening ; went to bed, and rolled, tossed and 
jingled right along, the same as ever; got up at midnight 
frantic, and tried to read ; but there was nothing visible 
upon the whirling page except " Punch ! punch in the 
presence of the passenjare!" By sunrise I was out of my 
mind, and everybody marveled and was distressed at the 
idiotic burden of my ravings : " Punch ! oh, punch ! punch 
in ihe presence of the passenjare !" 



A LITERARY NIGHTMARE. 39 

Two days later, on Saturday morning, I arose, a totter- 
ing wreck, and went forth to fulfill an engagement with a 

valued friend, the Rev. Mr. , to walk to the Talcott 

Tower, ten miles distant. He stared at me, but asked no 

questions. We started. Mr. talked, talked, talked 

— as is his wont. I said nothing; I heard nothing. At the 
end of a mile, Mr. said : 

" Mark, are you sick % I never saw a man look so hag- 
gard and worn and absent-minded. Say something j do !* 

Drearily, without enthusiasm, I said : u Punch, brothers! 
punch with care ! Punch in the presence of the passenjare V 

My friend eyed me blankly, looked perplexed, then said : 

u I do not think I get your drift, Mark. There does not 
seem to be any relevancy in what you have said, certainly 
nothing sad ; and yet— maybe it was the way you said the 
words— I never heard anything that sounded so pathetic. 
What is—" 

Bat I heard no more. I was already far away with my 
pitiless, heart-breaking " blue trip slip for an eight-cent 
fare, buff trir) slip for a six- cent fare, pink trip slip for a 
three-cent fare ; punch in the presence of the passenjare." 
I do not know what occurred daring the other nine miles. 

However, all of a sudden Mr. laid his hand on my 

shoulder and shouted : 

"Oh, wake up! wake up! wake up! Don't sleep all 
day ! Here we are at the Tower, man ! I have talked 
myself deaf and dumb and blind, and never got a response. 
Just look at this magnificent autumn landscape ! Look at 
it! look at it ! Feast your eyes on it ! You have traveled ; 
you have seen boasted landscapes elsewhere. Come, now, 
deliver an honest opinion. What do you say to this f ' 

I sighed wearily, and murmured : 

" A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, a pink trip slip for 
a three-cent fare, punch in the presence of the passenjare." 

Rev. Mr. stood there, very grave, full of concern, 

apparently, and looked long at me ; then he said : 



40 A LITERARY NIGHTMARE. 

" Mark, there is something about this that I cannot un- 
derstand. Those are about the same words you said be- 
fore ; there does not seem to be anything in them, and yet 
they nearly break my heart when you say them. Punch 
in the— how is it they go f " 

I began at the beginning and repeated all the lines. My 
friend's face lighted with interest. He said : 

" Why, what a captivating jingle it is ! It is almost 
music. It flows along so nicely. I have nearly caught the 
rhymes myself. Say them over just once more, and then 
I'll have them, sure." 

I said them over. Then Mr. said them. He made 

one little mistake, which I corrected. The next time and 
the next he got them right. Now a great burden seemed 
to tumble from my shoulders. That torturing jingle de- 
parted out of my brain, and a grateful sense of rest and 
peace descended upon me. I was light-hearted enough to 
sing ; and I did sing for half an hour, straight along, as 
we went jogging homeward. Then my freed tongue found 
blessed speech again, and the pent talk of many a weary 
hour began to gash and flow. It flowed on and on, joyously, 
jubilantly, until the fountain was empty and dry. As I 
wrung my friend's hand at parting, I said : 

" Haven't we had a royal good time ! But now I re- 
member, you haven't said a word for two hours. Come, 
come, out with something !" 

The Rev. Mr. turned a lack-lustre eye upon me, 

drew a deep sigh, and said, without animation, without 
apparent consciousness : 

II Punch, brothers ! punch with care ! Punch in the 
presence of the passenjare !" 

A pang shot through me as I said to myself, " Poor fel- 
low, poor fellow ! he has got it now." 

I did not see Mr. for two or three days after that. 

Then, on Tuesday evening, he staggered into my presence 
and sank dejectedly into a seat. He was pale, worn ; he 



A LITERARY NIGHTMARE. 41 

was a wreck. Ee lifted his faded eyes to my face and said : 
" Ah, Mark, it was a ruinous investment that I made in 
those heartless rhymes. They have ridden me like a night- 
mare, day and night, hour after hour, to this very moment. 
Since I saw you I have suffered the torments of the lost. 
Saturday evening I had a sudden call by telegraph, and 
took the night train for Boston. The occasion was the 
death of a valued old friend, who had requested that I 
should preach his funeral sermon. I took my seat in the 
cars and set myself to framing the discourse. But I never 
got beyond the opening paragraph; for then the train 
started and the car- wheels began their ' clack-clack-clack- 
clack ! clack-clack-clack-clack !' and right away those 
odious rhymes fitted themselves to that accompaniment. 
For an hour I sat there and set a syllable of those rhymes 
to every separate and distinct clack the car-wheels made. 
Why, I was as fagged out then as if I had been chopping 
wood all day. My skull was splitting with headache. It 
seemed to me that I must go mad if I sat there any longer ; 
so I undressed* and went to bed. I stretched myself out in 
my berth, and— well, you know what the result was. The 
thing went right along, just the same. ' Clack-clack- 
clack, a blue trip slip, clack-clack-clack, for an eight-cent 
fare ; clack-clack-clack, a buff trip slip, clack-clack-clack, 
for a six-cent fare— and so on, and so on, and so on— punch 
in the presence of the passenjare !' Sleep f Not a single 
wink ! I was almost a lunatic when I got to Boston. Don't 
ask me about the funeral. I did the best I could ; but 
every solemn individual sentence was meshed and tangled 
and woven in and out with ' Punch, brothers ! punch with 
care ! punch in the presence of the passenjare.' And the 
most distressing thing was that my delivery dropped into 
the undulating rhythm of those pulsing rhymes, and I 
could actually catch absent-minded people nodding time 
to the swing of it with their stupid heads. And, Mark, 
you may believe it or not, but before I got through, the 



42 A LITERARY NIGHTMARE. 

entire assemblage were placidly bobbing their head in 
solemn unison, mourners, undertaker, and all. The mo- 
ment 1 had finished, I fled to the anteroom in a state bor- 
dering on frenzy. Of course it would be my luck to find a 
sorrowing and aged maiden aunt of the deceased there, 
who had arrived from Springfield too late to get into the 
church. She began to sob, and said : 

" ' Oh, oh, he is gone, he is gone, and I didn't see him 
before he died V 

" ' Yes P I said, t he is gone, he is gone, he is gone — oh, 
ivill this suffering never cease V 

" i You loved him, then ! Oh, you too loved him V 

" ' Loved him ! Loved who V 

" ' Why, my poor George ! my poor nephew V 

u ' Oh— him ! Yes— oh, yes, yes. Certainly — certainly. 
Punch — punch — oh, this misery will kill me!' 

" ' Bless you ! bless you, sir, for those sweet words ! J, 
too, sutler in this dear loss. Were you present during his 
last moments V 

" ' Yes ! I — whose last moments V 

11 ' His. The dear departed's.' 

" 'Yes ! Oh, yes — yes — yes! I suppose so, I think so, I 
don't know ! Oh, certainly — I was there— J was there !' 

" ' Oh, what a privilege ! what a precious privilege. 
And his last words— oh, tell me — tell me his last words ! 
What did he say V 

u l He said— he said— oh, my head, my head, my head ! 
He said — he said — lie never said anything but Punch, 
punch, punch in the presence of the passenjare ! Oh, leave 
me, madam ! In the name of all that is generous, leave me 
to my madness, my misery, my despair !— a buff trip slip 
for a six-cent fare, a pink trip slip for a three-cent fare— 
endu-rance can no fur-ther go ! — punch in the presence of 
the passenjare !' " 

My friend's hopeless eyes rested on mine a pregnant 
minute, and then he said impressively : 



THE BIRTH OF IRELAND. 43 

" Mark, you do not say anything. You do not offer me 
any hope. But, ah me, it is just as well — it is just as well. 
You could not do me any good. The time has long gone 
by when words could comfort me. SomethiDg tells me 
that my tongue is doomed to wag forever to the jigger of 
that remorseless jingle. There— there it is coming on me 
again : a blue trip slip for an eight- cent fare, a buff trip 
slip for a—" 

Thus murmuring faint and fainter, my friend sank into 
a peaceful trance, and forgot his sufferings in a blessed 
respite. 

How did I finally save him from the asylum ? I took him 
to a neighboring university, and made him discharge the 
burden of his persecuting rhymes into the eager ears of 
the poor unthinking students. How is it with them, now ! 
The result is too sad to tell. Why did I write this article ? 
It was for a worthy, even a noble purpose. It was to warn 
you, reader, if you should come across those merciless 
rhymes, to avoid them— avoid them as you would a pesti- 
lence ! 



THE BIRTH OF IRELAND. 

From the National Teacher's Monthly. 

" "With due condescension, I'd call your attention to what I shall 
mention of Erin so green, 

And, without hesitation, I'll show how that nation became, of crea- 
tion, the gem and the queen. 

'"Twas early one morning, without any warning, that Yanus was 

born in the beautiful Say ; 
And, by the same token, and sure 'twas provoking, her pinions 

were soaking, and wouldn't give play. 

" Old Neptune, who knew her, began to pursue her, in order to 
woo her — the wicked old Jew — 



44 THE IRISHMAN'S PANORAMA. 

And almost had caught her atop of the "water— great Jupiter's 
daughter ! — which never would do. 

" But Jove, the great janius, looked down and saw Yanus and 
Neptune so heinous pursuing her wild, 

And he spoke out in thunder he'd rend him asunder— and sure 
'twas no wonder — for tazing his child. 

"A star that was flying hard by him espying, he caught with 

small trying and down let it snap ; 
It fell quick as winking on Neptune a-sinking, and gave him, I'm 

thinking, a bit of a rap. 

" That star it was dryland, doth lowland and highland, and formed 

a sweet island, the land of my birth : 
Thus plain is the story that, sent down from glory, old Erin 

asthore is the gem of the earth ! 

" Upon Erin nately jumped Vanus so stately, but fainted lose 

lately so hard she was pressed ; 
"Which much did bewilder, but, ere it had killed her, her father 

distilled her a drop of the best. 

*' That sup was victorious ; it made her feel glorious— a little up- 
roarious, I fear it might prove- 
So how can ye blame us that Ireland's so famous for drinking and 
beauty, for fighting and love f ' 



THE IRISHMAN'S PANORAMA. 

Kindness of Mr. Jas. Burdkttk, Humorist and Dramatic Recitationist. 

Ladies and Gintlemin : In the foreground over there 
ye's '11 obsarve Vinegar Hill, an' should yer be goin' by 
that way some day, yer inoight be fatigued, an' if ye are 
yer'll foind at the fut of the hill a nate little cot kept by -a 
man named McCarty, who, by the way, is as foine a lad as 
you'll mate in a day's march. I see by the hasp on the 
door that McCarty is out, or I'd tali' yes in an' introduce 
yes. A foine, ginerous, noble feller is this McCarty. 



THE IRISHMAN'S PANORAMA. 45 

Shure an' if he had but the wan peratie he'd give yes the 
half of that, and phat's more, he'd thank ye for takin' it. 
(James, move the crank ! Larry, music on the bag-pipes !) 

Ladies and Gintlemin : We've now arrived at a beauti- 
ful spot, situated about twenty miles this side o' Limerick. 
To the left over there yer'll see a hut, by the side of which 
is sated a lady and gintleman j well, as I was goin' that 
way wan day I heard the following conversation betwixt 
him an' her. Says she to him : "James, it's a shame for 
yer to be tratin' me so ; d'ye moind the toime yer used to 
come to me father's castle a-beggin' ?" " Yer father's cas- 
tle— me ? Well, thin ! ye could sthand on the outside of 
yer father's castle, an' stick yer arm down the chimney an' 
pick praties out of the pot, an' divil a partition betwixt 
you and the pigs but sthraw." (Move the crank, etc.) 

Ladies an' Gintlemin : We have now arrived at the 
beautiful an' classical Lakes of Killarney. There's a 
curious legend connected wid dese lakes that I must re- 
late to you. It is that every evenin' at four o'clock in the 
afternoon a beautiful swan is seen to make its appearance, 
an' while movin' transcendentally an' glidelessly along, 
ducks its head, skips under the water, an' you'll not see 
him till the next afternoon. (Turn the crank, etc.) 

Ladies an' Grintlemin : We have now arrived at another 
beautiful spot, situated about thirteen and a half miles 
this side of Cork. This is a grate place, noted for sports- 
min. Wanst, while sthoppin' over there at the hotel de 
Finney, the following tilt of a conversation occurred be- 
twixt Mr. Muldooney, the waiter, and mesilf. I says to him 
says I, " Mully, old boy, will you have the kindness to 
fetch me the mustard f " and he was a long time bring- 
in' it, so I opportuned him for kapin' me. An' says he to 
me, says he, u Mr. McCune " (that's me), " I notice that you 
take a grate dale of mustard wid your mate." il I do," 
says I. Says he, "I notice you take a blame sight of mate 
wid your mustard." (Move the crank, etc.) 



46 MONEY MUSK. 

Ladies an' Gintlemin : We now skhip acrost the broad 
Atlantic to a wonderful sphot in America, situated a few 
miles from Chinchinnatti, Ohoho, called the Falls of Niag- 
ara. While lingerin' here wan day I saw a young couple, 
evidently very sweet on aich other. Av coorse I tuk no 
notice of phat they were say in', but I couldn't help listenin* 
to the folio win 7 extraordinary conversation. Says he to her : 
" Isn't it wonderful to see that tremindous amount of water 
coram' down over that terrible precipice. " Yis, darlint," 
says she, u but wouldn't it be far more wonderful to see the 
same tremindous body of water a-goin' up that same preci- 
pice V (Move the crank, etc.) 



MONEY MUSK. 

BENJ. F. TAYLOR. 

Abridged for Public Reading. 
****** 

Ah, the buxom girls that helped the boys — 
The nobler Helens of humbler Troys — 
As they stripped the husks with rustling fold 
From eight-rowed corn as yellow as gold, 

By the candle-light in pumpkin bowls, 
And the gleams that showed fantastic holes 
In the quaint old lantern's tattooed tin, 
From the hermit glim set up within ; 

By the rarer light in girlish eyes 
As dark as wells, or as blue as skies. 
I hear the laugh when the ear is red, 
I see the blush with the forfeit paid, 

The cedar cakes with the ancient twist, 
The cider cup that the girls have kissed. 
And I see the fiddler through the dusk 
As he twangs the ghost of " Money Musk !" 



MONEY MUSK. 47 

The boys and girls in a double row 
"Wait face to face till the magic bow 
Shall whip the tune from the violin, 
And the merry pulse of the feet begin. 

MONET MUSK. 
In shirt of check, and tallowed hair, 
The fiddler sits in the bulrush chair 
like Moses' basket stranded there 

On the brink of Father Mle. 
He feels the fiddle's slender neck, 
Picks out the note, with thrum and check; 
And times the tune with nod and beck, 

And thinks it a weary while. 
All ready ! Now he gives the call, 
Cries, "Honor to the ladies!" All 
The jolly tides of laughter fall 

And ebb in a happy smile. 

" Begin." D-o-w-n comes the bow on every string, 
"First couple join right hands and swing /" 
As light as any blue- bird's wing 

"Swing once and a half times round? 
"Whirls Mary Martin all in blue — 
Calico gown and stockings new, 
And tinted eyes that tell you true, 

Dance all to the dancing sound. 

She flits about big Moses Brown, 
"Who holds her hands to keep her down 
And thinks her hair a golden crown, 

And his heart turns over once ! 
His cheek with Mary's breath is wet, 
It gives a second somerset ! 
He means to win the maiden yet, 

Alas, for the awkward dance ! 

" Tour stoga boot has crushed my toe !" 
"I'd rather dance with one-legged Joe !" 
11 You clumsy fellow !" " Pass below !" 
And the first pair dance apart. 



48 THE SHIP OF FAITH. 

Then " Forward six !" advance, retreat, 
Like midges gay in sunbeam street 
"lis Money Musk by merry feet 

And the Money Musk by heart! 

" Three quarters round your partner swing !" 
"Across the set !" The rafters ring, 
The girls and boys have taken wing 

And have brought their roses out! 
'Tis Forward six /" with rustic grace, 
Ah, rarer far than—" Swing to place!" 
Than golden clouds of old point-lace 

They bring the dance about. 

Then clasping hands all—" Eight and left !" 
All swiftly weave the measure deft 
Across the woof in loving weft, 

And the Money Musk is done I 
Oh, dancers of the rustling husk, 
Good night, sweet hearts, 'tis growing dusk, 
Good night for aye to Money Musk, 

For the heavy march begun! 



THE SHIP OF FAITH. 

ANON. 

A certain colored brother had been holding forth to his 
little flock upon the ever-fruitful topic of Faith, and he 
closed his exhortation about as follows : 

My bruddren, ef yous gwine to git saved, you got to 
git on board de Ship ob Faith. I tell you, my bruddren, 
dere ain't no odder way. Dere ain't no gitten up de back 
stairs, nor goin' 'cross lots; you can't do dat away, my 
bruddren, you got to git on board de Ship of Faith. Once 
'pon a time dere was a lot ob colored people, an' dey was 
all gwine to de promised land. Well, dey knowed dere want 
no odder way for 'em to do but to git on board de Ship of 



THE SHIP OF FAITH. 49 

Faith. So dey all went down an' got on board, de ole gran- 
faders, an'de ole granmudders, an' de pickaninnies, an' all de 
res' ob 'em. Dey all got on board 'ceptin 7 one mons'us big 
feller, be said he's gwine to swim, he was. "W 7 y!" dey 
said, "you can't swim so fur like dat. It am a powerful 
long way to de promised land !" He said, " I kin swim 
anywhur, I kin. I git board no boat, no, 'deed l» Well, 
my bruddren, all dey could say to dat poor disluded man 
dey couldn't git him on board de Ship of Faith, so dey 
started ofl". De day was fair, de win' right j de sun shinin' 
and ev'ryt'ing b'utiful, an' dis big feller he pull off his close 
and plunge in de water. Well, he war a powerful swim- 
mer, dat man, 'deed he war ; he war dat powerful he kep' 
right 'long side de boat all de time ; he kep' ahollerin' out 
to de people on de boat, sayin' : " What you doin 7 dere, 
you folks, brilin' away in de sun j you better come down 
heah in de water, nice an' cool down here.' 7 But dey 
said: "Man alive, you better come up here in dis boat 
while you got a chance." But he said, " No, indeedy ! I 
git aboard no boat ; I'm havin 7 plenty fun in de water.' 7 
Well, bimeby, my bruddren, what you tink dat pore man 
seen? A horrible, awful shark, my bruddren; mouf 
wide open, teef more'n a foot long, ready to chaw dat pore 
man all up de minute he catch him. Well, when he seen 
dat shark he begun to git awful scared, an 7 he holler out 
to de folks on board de ship: " Take me on board, take 
me on board, quick !' 7 But dey said : " No, indeed; you 
wouldn't come up here when you had an invite, you got to 
swim now. 77 

He look over his shoulder an' he seen dat shark a-comin 7 , 
an' he let hisself out. Fust it was de man an 7 den it was 
de shark, an' den it was de man again, dat away, my 
bruddren, plum to de promised land. Dat am de blessed 
troof Fm a tellin' you dis minute. But what do you 
t'ink was a-waitin 7 for him on de odder shore when he got 
dere f A horrible, aivful lion, my bruddren, was a-stan'm 7 



jO pup-pup-poetry. 

dere on de shore, a-lashin' his sides wid his tail, an' 
a-roarin' away lit to devour dat poor nigger de minit ho 
git on der shore. Well he war powerful scared den, he 
don't know what he gwine to do. If he stay in de water 
de shark eat him up ; if he go on de shore de lion eat him 
up ; he dunno what to do. But he put his trust in de Lord, 
an' went for de shore. Dat lion he give a fearful roar an' 
bound for him ; but, my bruddren, as sure as you 'live an' 
breeve, dat horrible awful lion he jump clean ober dat pore 
feller's head into de water ; an' de shark eat de lion. But, 
my bruddren, dou't you put your trust in no sich circum- 
stance ; dat pore man he done git saved, but I tell you de 
Lord ainH a-givine to furnish a lion for every nigger ! 



PUP-PUP-POETRY. 

PUNCH. 

I have found a gig-gig-girl for my faf-fuf-fair, 

I have found where the rattlesnakes bub- bub-breed ; 

"Will you co-co-come, and I'll show you the bub-bub-bear, 
And the lions and tit-tit-tigers at fuf-fuf-feed. 

I know where the co-co- cockatoo's sorg 
Makes mum-mum-melody through the sweet vale ; 

"Where the mum-monkey's gig-gig-grin all the day long, 
Or gracefully swing by the tit-tail. 

Tou shall pip-play, dear, some did-did delicate joke, 
With the bub bub-bear on the tit-tit-top of his pip-pip-pole ; 

But observe 'tis forbidden to pip-poke 
At the bub-bub-bear with your pip pip-pink pip-pip-pip-parasol. 

Tou shall see the huge elephant pip-pip-play ; 

You shall gig-gig-gaze on the stit-stit-ately raccoon, 
And then, did-dear, together we'll stray 

To the cage of the bub-bub-blue-faced bab-bab-baboon. 

You wished (I r-r-remembered it well, 
And I lul-lul-loved you the m-m-more for the wish) 

To witness the bub-bub-beautiful pip-pip-pelican 
Swallow the 1-1-live little fuf-fuf-fish. 



A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 51 



A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 

JAMES DE MtLLE. 

From The Dodge Club. 

Our Senator was a man who by mere force of character, 
apart from the adventitious aids of culture and refinement, 
had attained wealth and position. He found it agreeable 
—as so many other Americans have done — to take a trip 
abroad. 

He chanced to be in Florence during the recent struggle 
for Italian independence. His friend, the Minister, took 
him to the houses of the leaders of society, and introduced 
him as an eminent American statesman and member of 
the Senate. 

Could any recommendation be equal to that ? Republi- 
canism ran high. America was synonymous with the 
Promised Land. To be a statesman in America was as 
great a dignity as to be prince in any empire on earth. 

So if the Florentines received the Senator with bound- 
less hospitality, it was because they admired his country, 
and reverenced his dignity. They liked to consider the 
presence of the American Minister and Senator as an ex- 
pression of the good- will of the American government. 
They were determined to lionize him. It was a new sen- 
sation to the Senator. 

For two or three days he was the subject of an eager 
contest among all the leaders of society. At length there 
appeared upon the scene the great Vietrix in a thousand 
contests such as these. The others fell back discomfited, 
and the Senator became her prey. 

The Countess di Nottinero was not exactly a Recamier, 
but she was a remarkably brilliant woman, and the ac- 
knowledged leader of the liberal part of Florentine society. 

She was generally known as La Cica, a nickname given 
by her enemies, though what " Cica 77 meant no one could 
tell exactly. 



52 A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 

La Cicu did her part marvelously well. She did not 
speak the best English in the world, yet that could not 
account for all the singular remarks which she made. Still 
less could it account for the tender interest of her manner. 
She had remarkably bright eyes. Why wandered those 
eyes so often to his, and why did they beam with such de- 
votion — beaming for a moment only to fall in sweet, inno- 
cent confusion ? La Cica had the most fascinating man- 
ners, yet they were often perplexing to the Senator's soul. 
The little offices which she required of him did not appear, 
in his matter-of-fact eyes, as strictly prudent. The innate 
gallantry which he possessed carried him bravely along 
through much that was bewildering to his nerves. Yet he 
was often in danger of running away in terror. 

" The Countess," he thought, u is a most remarkable line 
woman ; but she does use her eyes uncommon, and I do 
wish she wouldn't be quite so demonstrative." 

The good Senator had never before encountered a 
thorough woman of the world, and was as ignorant as a 
child of the innumerable little harmless arts by which the 
power of such a one is extended and secured. At last ttra 
Senator came to this conclusion — La Cica was desperately 
in love with him. 

She appeared to be a widow. At least, she had no hus- 
band that he had ever seen. Now if the poor Cica was 
hopelessly in love, it must be stopped at once. But let it 
be done delicately, not abruptly. 

One evening they walked on the balcony of La Clc %'s 
noble residence. She was sentimental, devoted, charming. 

The conversation of a fascinating woman does not sound 
so well when reported as it is when uttered. Her power is 
in her tone, her glance, her manner. Who can catch the 
evanescent beauty of her expression or the deep tender- 
ness of her well -modulated voice % who indeed ? 

" Does ze scene please you, my Senator P 

" Very much indeed." 



A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 53 

" Youar countrymen haf tol me zey would like to stay 
here alio way." 

" It is a beautiful place." 

" Did you aiver see any thin' moaire loafely ?" And the 
Countess looked full in his face. 

" Never," said the Senator, earnestly. The next instant 
he blushed. He nad been betrayed into a compliment. 

The Couutess sighed. 

" Helas ! my Senator, that it is not pairmitted to moar- 
tals to 'sociate as zey would laike." 

" l Your Senator,' " thought the gentleman thus ad- 
dressed ; "how fond, how tender — poor thing ! poor thing V* 

u I wish that Italy was nearer to the States," said he. 

" How I adamiar youar style of mind, so diflferente from 
ze Italiana ! You are so strong — so nobile. Yet would I 
laike to see moar of ze poetic in you." 

" I always loved poetry, marm," said the Senator, des- 
perately. 

" Ah — good— nais— eccelente. I am plees at zat," cried 
the Countess, with much animation. " You would loafe it 
moar eef you knew Italiano. Your langua ees not suffi- 
ciente musicale for poatry." 

" It is not so soft a language as the Italian." 

"Ah — no— not so soft. Very well. And what theenka 
you of ze Italiano V* 

" The sweetest language I ever heard in all my born 
days." 

" Ah, now — you hev not heard much of ze Italiano, my 
Senator." 

"I have heard you speak often," said the Senator, 
naively. 

" Ah, you compliment ! I sot you was aboove fiattera." 

And the Countess playfully tapped his arm with her lit- 
tle fan. 

" What Ingelis poet do you loafe best ?" 

" Poet ! English poet ?" said the Senator, with some 



54 A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 

surprise. " Oh— why, marm, I think Watts is about the 
best of the lot !" 

" Watt ? Was he a poet ? I did not know zat. He 
who invented ze stim-injaine ? And yet, if he was a poet, 
it is naturale zat you loafe him best." 

" Steam-engine 1 Oh, no ! This one was a minister." 

lt A meeneestaire ? Ah ! an abbe? I know him not. 
Yet I haf read mos of all youar poets." 

" He made up hymns, marm, and psalms — for instance, 
' Watts's Divine Hymns and Spiritual Songs.' " 

" Songs f Spirituelle f Ah, I mus at once procuaire ze 
works of Watt, which was favorit poet of my Senator." 

" A lady of such intelligence as yon would like the poet 
Watts," said the Senator, firmly. " He is the best known 
by far of all our poets." 

" What ! better zan Sakespeare, Milton, Bairon ? You 
much surprass me." 

"Better known and better loved than the whole lot. 
Why, his poetry is known by heart through all England 
and America." 

" Merciful Heaven ! what you tell me ? ees eet possbl ? 
An' yet he is not known here efen by name. It would please 
me mooch, my Senator, to haire you make one quotatione. 
Know you Watt 1 Tell to me some words of his which I 
may remembaire." 

" I have a shocking bad memory." 

" Bad memora ! Oh, but you remember something zis 
mos' beaut'ful charm nait — you haf a nobile soul— you mus' 
be affecta by beauty — by ze ideal. Make for a me one 
quotatione." 

And she rested her little hand on the Senator's arm, and 
looked up imploringly in his face. 

The Senator looked foolish. He felt even more so. Here 
was a beautiful woman, by act and look showing a tender 
interest in him. Perplexing — but very flattering, after all. 
So he replied— 



A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 55 

" You will not let roe refuse you anything." 

" Aha ! you are very willing to refuse. It is difficulty for 
me to excitaire youar regards. You are filled with the 
grands ideas. But come — will you spik for me some from 
your favorit Watt 1» 

" Well, if you wish it so much," said the Senator, kindly ; 
and he hesitated. 

"Ah! I do wis it so much !" 

' Ehem !" 

" Begin," said the Countess. " Behold me. I listen. I 
hear every sin, and will rememhaire it forava." 

The only thing that the Senator could think of was a verse 
which had been running in his head for the last few days, 
its measured rhythm keeping time with every occupation : 

" ' My willing soul would stay — \ " 

'* Stop one moment/ 7 said the Countess. " I weesh to 
learn it from you f and she looked fondly and tenderly up, 
but instantly dropped her eyes. 

" * Ma willina sol wooda sta— ' " 

" ' In such a frame as this/ " prompted the Senator. 

" ' Een socha framas zees.' Wait — l Ma willina sol wooda 
sta in soocha frama zees.' Ah, appropriat ! but could I 
hope zat you were true to zose lines, my Senator ? Well V 1 

u l And sit and sing herself away/ "said the Senator, in 
a faltering voice, and breaking out into a cold perspiration 
for fear of committing himself by such uncommonly strong 
language. 

" ' Ansit ansin hassaf awai/ " repeated the Countess, her 
face lighting up with a sweetly conscious expression. 

The Senator paused. 

"Well?" 

" I— ehem ! I forget." 

" Forget ? Impossible !" 

" I do, really." 

"Ah, now! Forget! I see by youar face— you desave. 
Say on." 



56 A SENATOR ENTANGLED. 

The Countess again gently touched his arm with both of 
her little hands, and held it as though she would clasp it. 

" Have you fear i Ah, cruel !" 

The Senator turned pale, but, finding refusal impossible, 
boldly finished : 

" l To everlasting bliss ' — there !" 

"'To affarlastin' blees thar.' Stop. I repeat it all: 
* Ma willina sol wooda sta in socha framas zees, ansit 
ansin hassai* awai to affarlastin blees thar.' Am I 
right !» 

*' Yes," said the Senator, meekly. 

" I knew you war a poetic sola," said the Countess, con- 
fidingly. "You are honesto— true— you cannot desave. 
When you spik I can beliv you. Ah, my Senator ! an you 
can spik zis poetry ! — at soch a taime ! I nefare knew be- 
foare zat you were so impassione ! — an' you air so artaful ! 
You breeng ze confersazione to beauty — to poatry — to ze 
poet Watt— so you may spik verses mos impassione ! Ah ! 
what do you mean ? Santissima madre ! how I wish you 
spik Italiano." 

The Countess drew nearer to him, but her approach only 
deepened his perplexity. 

" How that poor thing does love me !" sighed the Sena- 
tor. » ' Law bless it ! she can't help it — can't help it nohow. 
She is a goner ; and what can I do ? I'll have to leave 
Florence." 

The Countess was standing close beside him in a tender 
mood waiting for him to break the silence. How could 
he f He had been uttering words which sounded to her 
like love ; and she — " a widow ! a widow ! a widow ! wretch- 
ed man that I am !" 

There was a pause. The longer it lasted the more awk- 
ward the Senator felt. What upon earth was he to do or 
say ¥ What business had he to go and quote poetry to 
widows % What an old fool he must be ! But the Countess 
was very far from feeling awkward. 



CHRISTMAS-NIGHT IN THE QUARTERS. 57 

attitude she looked up, her face expressing the tenderest 
solicitude. 

" What ails my Senator ?" 

" Why, the fact is, marui — I feel sad — at leaving Flor- 
ence. I must go shortly. My wife has written summon- 
ing me home. The children are down with the measles." 

base fabrication ! false Senator ! There wasn't a 
word of truth in that remark. You spoke so because you 
wished La Cica to know that you had a wife and family. 
Yet it was very badly done. 

La Cica changed neither her attitude nor her expres- 
sion. Evidently the existence of his wife and the melan- 
choly situation of his unfortunate children awakened no 
sympathy. 

" But, my Senator, did you not say you wooda seeng 
yoursellef away to affarlasteen belees V 

'■ Oh, inarm, it was a quotation — only a quotation." 

But at this critical juncture the conversation was broken 
up by the arrival of a number of ladies and gentlemen. 



CHRISTMAS-NIGHT IN THE QUARTERS. 

EBWUN RUSSELL. 

From Seribner's Monthly. 
Abridged for Public Reading. 
■When merry Christmas-day is done, 
And Christmas-night is just begun ; 
"While clouds in slow procession drift 
To wish the moon-man " Christmas gift," 
Yet linger overhead, to know 
"What causes all the stir below ; 
At Uncle Johnny Booker's ball 
The darkeys hold high carnival. 

Original in act and thought, 
Because unlearned and untaught, 



58 CHEISTMAS-NIGHT IN THE QUARTERS. 

Observe thein at their Christmas party. 
How unrestrained their mirth— how hearty 1 
How many things they say and do, 
That never would occur to you ! 
See Brudder Brown — whose saving grace 
"Would sanctify a quarter-race— 
Out on the crowded floor advance, 
To "beg a blessin' on dis dance/' 

Oh, Mahsr ! let dis gath'rin' fin' a blessin' in yo sight ! 

Don't jedge us hard for what we does— you know it's Chrismus 

nig lit ; 
An' all de balunce ob de yeah we does as right's we kin— 
Ef dancin's wrong — oh, Mahsr ! let de time excuse de sin ! 

"We labors in de vineya'd— workin' hard, an' workin' true — 
Now, shorely you won't notus, ef we eats a grape or two, 
An' takes a leetle holiday — a leetle restin'-spell— 
Bekase, nex' week, we'll start in fresh, an' labor twicet as well. 

Eemember, Mahsr — min' dis, now — de sinfulness ob sin 
Is 'pendin' 'pon de sperrit what we goes an' does it in : 
An' in a righchis frame ob min' we's gwine to dance an' sing; 
A-feelin' like King David, when he cut de pigeon- wing. 

It seems to me — indeed it do — I mebbe mout be wrong- 
That people raly ought to dance when Chrismus comes along; 
Des dance bekase dey's happy — like de birds hops in de trees : 
De pine-top fiddle soundin' to de bo win' ob de breeze. 

"We has no ark to dance afore, like Isrul's prophet king ; 
"We has no harp to soun de chords, to holp us out to sing ; 
But 'cordin' to de gif s we has we does de bes' we knows — 
An' folks don't 'spise de vi'let-flow'r bekase it ain't de rose. 

You bless us, please sah, eben ef we's doin' wrong to-night ; 
Kase den we'll need de blessin' more 'n ef we's doin' right ; 
An' let de blessin' stay wid us, untell we comes to die, 
An' goes to keep our Chrismus wid dem sheriffs in de sky ! 

Yes, tell dem preshis anjuls we's a-gwine to jine 'em soon : 
Our voices we's a-trainin' for to sing de glory tune ; 
"We's ready when you wants us, an' it ain't no matter when — 
Oh, Mahsr ! call yo' chillen soon, an' take 'em home ! Amen. 



CHRISTMAS-NIGHT IN THE QUARTERS. 59 

The rev'rend man is scarcely tnrough, 
When all the noise begins anew, 
And with such force assaults the ears, 
That through the din one hardly hears 
Old Piddling Josey "sound his A"— 
Correct the pitch — begin to play- 
Stop, satisfied — then, with the bow, 
Eap out the signal dancers know : 

Git yo' pardners, fus kwattilion ! 

Stomp yo' feet, an' raise 'em high ; 
Tune is : " Oh ! dat water-million ! 

Gwine to git to home bime-bye." 
S'lute yo' pardners ! scrape perlitely — 

Don't be bumpin' gin de res' — 
Balance all ! now, step out rightly ; 

Alluz dance yo' lebbel bes'. 
Fo'wa'dfoah ! — whoop up, niggers ! 

Back ag'in ! — don't be so slow — 
Swing cornahs ! — min' de riggers : 

"When I holler, den yo' go. 
Top ladies cross ooer ! 

Hoi' on, till I takes a dram — 
Gemmcn solo ! — yes, Fs sober — 

Kaint say how de fiddle am — 
Sands around ! — hoi' up yo' faces, 

Don't be lookin' at yo' feet ! 
Swing yo' pardners to yo' places ! 

Dat's de way — dat's hard to beat. 
Sides fo'w'd ! — when you's ready- 
Make a bow as low's you kin ! 
Swing acrost wid opposite lady ! 

Now we'll let you swap ag'in : 
Ladies change ! — shet up dat talkin' ; 

Do yo' talkin arter while— 
Right an' lef ! — don't want no walkin' — 

Make yo' steps an' show yo' style ! 
***** 

So wears the night : and wears so fast, 
All wonder when they find it passed, 



60 CHRISTMAS-NIGHT IN THE QUARTERS. 

And hear the signal sound, to go, 
From what few cocks are left to crow. 
Then ono and all you hear them shout : 
" Hi ! Booker ! fotch de hanjo out, 
An' gib us one song 'fore we goes- 
One oh de berry bes' you knows !" 
Responding to the welcome call, 
He takes the banjo from the wall, 
And tunes the strings with skill and care — 
Then strikes them with a master's air ; 
And tells in melody and rhyme, 
This legend of the olden time : 

Go 'way fiddle '.—folks is tired o' hearin' you a-squarkin' 
Keep silence for yo' betters — don't you heah de banjo talkin' ¥ 
About de 'possum's tail she's gwine to lecter— ladies, listen !— 
About de ha'r what isn't dar, an' why de bar is missin' : 

" Dafs gwine to be a oberfiow," said Noah, look in' solemn — 
For Noah tuk the " Herald," an' he read de nbber column — 
An' so he sot his hands to work a-cl'arin' timber-patches, 
An' 'lowed he's gwine to build a boat to beat de steamah 
" Natchez." 

01' Noah kep' a-nailin', an' a-chippin', an' a-sawin' ; 
An' all the wicked neighbors kep' a-laughin' an' a-pshawin' ; 
But Noah didn't min' 'em— knowin' whut wuz gwine to happen: 
An' forty days an' forty nights de rain it kep' a-drappin'. 

Now, Noah had done cotched a lot ob ebry sort o' beas'es — 

Ob all de shows a-trabbelin', it beat 'em all to pieces ! 

He had a Morgan colt, an' sebral head o' Jarsey cattle— 

An' druv 'em 'board de Ark as soon's he heered de thunder rattle. 

Den sech anoder fall ob rain ! — it come so awful hebby, 

De ribber riz immejitly, an' busted troo de lebbee ; 

De people all wuz drownded out — 'cep' Noah an' de critters, 

An' men he'd hired to work de boat — an' one to mix de bitters. 

De Ark she kep' a-nailin', an' a-sailin', an' a-sailin' ; 

De lion got his dander up, an' like to bruk de pailin' — 

De sarpints hissed— de painters yelled — tell, what wid all de fussin' 

You c'u'dn't hardly heah de mate a-bossin' 'roun' an' cussin'. 



CHRISTMAS-NIGHT IN THE QUARTERS. 61 

Now, Ham, de only nigger whut wuz ruimin' on de packet, 
Got lonesome in de barber-shop, an' c'u'dn't stan' de racket ; 
An' so, for to amuse he-se'f, he steamed some wood an' bent it, 
An' soon he had a banjo made— de fust dat wuz invented. 

He wet de ledder, stretched it on ; made bridge, an' screws, an' 

apron; 
An' fitted in a proper neck — 'twuz berry long an' tap'rin' ; 
He tnk some tin, an' twisted him a thimble for to ring it ; 
An ' den de mighty question riz : how wuz he gwine to string it ? 

De 'possum had as fine a tail as dis dat Fs a-singin' ; 
De ha'rs so long, an' thick, an' strong — des fit for banjo-stringin' ; 
Dat nigger shaved 'em off as short as wash-day dinner graces ; 
An' sorted ob 'em by de size, frum little E's to basses. 

He strung her, tuned her, t struck a jig— 'twuz " Nebber min' de 

wedder " — 
She soun' like forty-lebben bands a-playin' all togedder ; 
Some went to pattin' ; some to dancin' ; £Toan called de figgers— 
An' Ham he sot an' knocked de tune, de happiest ob niggers ! 

Now, sence dat time — it's mighty strange — dere's not de slightes' 

showin' 
Ob any ha'r at all upon de 'possum's tail a-growin' ; 
An' curi's, too — dat nigger's ways : his people nebber los' 'em — 
For whar you finds de nigger — dar's de banjo an' de 'possum! 



The night is spent ; and r.s the day 
Throws up the first faint flash of gray, 
The guests pursue their homeward way ; 
And through the field beyond the gin, 
Just as the stars are going in, 
See Santa Claus departing— grieving — 
His own dear Land of Cotton leaving. 
His work is done — he fain would rest, 
"Where people know and love him best — 
He pauses — listens — looks about — 
But go he must : his pass is out ; 
So, coughing down the rising tears, 
He climbs the fence and disappears 



A LOVE SONG. 

And thus observes a colored youth — 
(The common sentiment, in sooth) : 
" Oh! what a blessing 'tw'u'd ha' been 
Ef Santy had been born a twin ! 
We'd hab two Christmuses a yeah — 
Or p'r'aps one brudder'd settle heah!" 



A LOYE SONG. 



Och, Nora, so swate, an' so purty, the darlint ! 

Her cheeks are like pinks shinin' out av the snow ; 
An' her chin — och, my heart, the dimple that's in it !— 

An' eyes that say yis when her lips litter no. 

Her form it is iligant, trim like, an' slinder ; 

An' look at the flowers that are harkin ; all 'round 
To hear is she comin', wid kisses so tinder 

To give her white fut as it touches the ground ! 

An' oft do I mind the fust hour of our meetin' — 

The baste of a dog, he had frighted her so ; 
She sprang to my arms, her poor heart wildly beathV 

Wid fear ; but i' faith, not a bit did I know 

"What it was ailin' mine— sich a stir an' commotion 
Inside of my chist, where her purty head lay, 

While my breath came in whirls, like the breath of the ocean, 
An' tripped up the words I was wantin' to say. 

An' here am I waitin' an hour in the gloamin 
Wid cruel lone spells sinkin' down in my heart ; 

Hist ! that is hersilf now, so craftily comin' 
To tase a poor lad wid her guile an' her art. 

But ye'll not git away, sure, my beautiful daisy ; 

Kest here in the arms that are lovin' an' strong. 
Kape still now, mavourneen, ye'd betther be aisy — 

Some other big dog might be com in' along. 



THE STEAMBOAT RACE. 



THE STEAMBOAT RACE. 

MARK TWAIN. 

From the " Gilded Age." 

Presently the pilot said : 

" By George, yonder comes the Amaranth !" 

A spark appeared close to the water, several miles down 
the river. The pilot took his glass and looked at it steadi- 
ly for a moment, and said, chiefly to himself: " It can't 
be the Blue Wing j she couldn't pick us up this way. It's 
the Amaranth, sure." 

He bent over a speaking-tube and said : 

u Who's on watch down there f 

A hollow, inhuman voice mumbled up through the tube 
in answer : 

" I am — second engineer." 

" Good ! you want to stir your stumps, now, Harry ; the 
Amaranth's just turned the point, and she's just a humping 
herself, too !" 

The pilot took hold of a rope that stretched out forward, 
jerked it twice, and two mellow strokes of the big bell re- 
sponded. 

A voice on deck shouted : 

u Stand by, down there, with that larboard lead !" 

" No, I don't want the lead," said the pilot ;"I want you. 
Roust out the old man — tell him the Amaranth's coming. 
And go and call Jim— tell Kim." 

" Aye ! aye ! sir." 

The " old man " was the captain. He is always called 
so on steamboats and ships. " Jim " was the other pilot. 
Within two minutes both these men were flying up the 
pilot-house stairway, three steps at a jump. Jim was in 
his shirt sleeves, with his coat and vest on his arm. He 
said : 

" I was just turning in. Where's the glass V } 

He took it and looked : 



G4 THE STEAMBOAT RACE. 

" Don't appear to be any night hawk on the jack's staff; 
it's the Amaranth, dead sure ! M 

The captain took a good long look and only said : 

" Damnation !" 

George Davis, the pilot on watch, shouted to the night 
watchman on deck : 

" How's she loaded ?" 

" Two inches by the head, sir." 

" 'Taint enough !" 

The captain shouted, now : 

" Call the mate. Tell him to call all hands and get a lot 
of that sugar forrard— put her ten inches by the head. 
Lively, now !" 

" Aye ! aye ! sir !" 

A riot of shouting and trampling floated up from below, 
presently, and the uneasy steering of the boat soon showed 
that she was getting " down by the head." 

The three men in the pilot-house began to talk in short, 
sharp sentences, low and earnestly. As their excitement 
rose, their voices went down. As fast as one of them put 
down the spy-glass, another took it up — but always with 
a studied air of calmness. Each time the verdict was : 

" She's a-gaining!" 

The captain spoke through the tube : 

" What steam are you carrying V 

" A hundred and forty-two, sir ! but she's getting hotter 
and hotter all the time." 

The boat was straining, and groaning and quivering, 
like a monster in pain. Both pilots were at work, now, one 
on each side of the wheel, with their coats and vests oft', 
their bosoms and collars wide open, and the perspiration 
flowing down their faces. They were holding the boat so 
close to the shore that the willows swept the guards al- 
most from stem to stern. 

" Stand by !" whispered George. 

u All ready ! " said Jim under his breath. 



THE STEAMBOAT RACE. 05 

" Let her come !" 

The boat sprang away from the bank like a deer, and 
darted in a long diagonal toward the other shore. She 
closed in again and thrashed her fierce way along the wil- 
lows as before. The captain put down the glass : 

" Lord, how she walks up on us ! I do hate to be beat !" 

The Amaranth was within three hundred yards of the 
Boreas, and still gaining. The " old man" spoke through 
the tube : 

" What is she carrying now f 

" A hundred and sixty-five, sir." 

" How's your wood ?" 

" Pine all out, cypress half gone— eating up cotton wood 
like pie !" 

" Break into that rosin on the main deck ! pile it in — the 
boat can pay for it I" 

Soon the boat was plunging and quivering and scream- 
ing more madly than ever. But the Amaranth's head was 
almost abreast the Boreas 7 stern. 

" How's your steam now, Harry ?" 

" Hundred and eighty-two, sir." 

" Break up the casks of bacon in the forrard hold ! Pile 
it in! Levy on that turpentine in the fantail— drench 
every stick of wood with it !" 

The boat was a moving earthquake by this time. 

" How is she now W 

11 A hundred and ninety-six and still a-swelling ! — water 
below the middle gauge' cocks ! — carrying every pound she 
can stand ! — nigger roosting on the safety-valve !" 

" Good ! How's your draught V 

" Bully ! Every time a nigger heaves a stick of wood in- 
to the furnace he goes out the chimney with it !" 

The Amaranth drew steadily up till her jack staff breast- 
ed the Boreas' wheel house— climbed along inch by inch 
till her chimneys breasted it. 

u Jim," said George, looking straight ahead, watching 



66 THE STEAMBOAT KACE. 

the slightest yawing of the boat and promptly meeting it 
with the wheel, " how'll it do to try Murderer's Chute P 

" Well, it's— if s taking chances. How was the cotton 
wood stump on the false point below Boardman's Island 
this morning V } 

" Water just touching the roots." 

" Well, it's pretty close work. That gives six feet scant 
in the head of Murderer's Chute. We can just barely rub 
through if we hit it exactly right. But it's worth trying. 
She don't dare tackle it," meaning the Amaranth. 

In another instant the Boreas plunged into what seemed 
a crooked creek, and the lights of the Amaranth were shut 
out in a moment. Not a whisper was uttered, now, but 
the three men stared ahead into the shadows, and two of 
them spun the wheel back and forth with anxious watch- 
fulness, while the steamer tore along. The Chute seemed 
to come to an end every fifty yards, but always opened out 
in time. Now the head of it was at hand. George tapped 
the big bell three times ; two leadsmen sprang to their 
posts, and in a moment their weird cries rose on the night 
air and were caught up and repeated by two men on the 
upper deck : 

" No-o bottom .!» 

" Deep four !" 

" Half three !» 

" Quarter three !" 

" Mark under water three !" 

" Half twain !" 

" Quarter twain ! — " 

Davis pulled a couple of ropes, there was a jingling of 
small bells far below, the boat's speed slackened, and the 
pent steam began to whistle and the gauge cocks to 
scream : 

" By the mark twain !" 

" Quarter her— er— less twain !" 

" Eight and a half !" 



THE SWELL. 67 

"Eight feet!" 

" Seven an' a— half !— " 

Another jingling of little bells and the wheels ceased 
turning altogether. The whistling of the steam was some- 
thing frightful now ; it almost drowned all other noises. 

" Stand by to meet her !" 

George had the wheel hard down and was standing on 
a spoke. 

" All ready !" 

The boat hesitated, seemed to hold her breath— as did 
the captain and pilots— and then she began to fall away to 
starboard, and every eye lighted : 

11 Now then! meet her! meet her! snatch her!" The wheel 
flew to port so fast that the spokes blended into a spider 
web, the swing of the boat subsided ; she steadied herself. 

" Seven feet !" 

"Sev — six and a half! 1 * 

" Six feet ! Six f " 

Bang ! She hit the bottom ! George shouted through, 
the tube : 

" Spread her wide open ! Whale it at her !" 

The escape pipes belched snowy pillars of steam aloft, the 
boat groaned and surged and trembled, and slid over into — 

" Mark twain !" 

" Quarter her !" 

Tap ! tap ! tap ! (to signify "lay in the leads.") 

And away she went, flying up the willow shore with the 
whole silver sea of the Mississippi stretching abroad on 
every hand, and, no Amaranth in sight. 



THE SWELL. 

GEORCB "W. KTLE. 

I say ! I wonder why fellahs ever wide in horse-cars ? 
I've been twying all day to think why fellahs ever do it, 
weally ! I know some fellahs that are in business, down 



08 THE SWELL. 

town, you know — C. B. Jones, cotton dealer; Smith Bro- 
thers, woolen goods; Bwown & Company, stock bwokers 
and that sort of thing, you know— who say they,do it every 
day. If I was to do it every day, my funeral would come 
off in about a week. Ton my soul, it would. I wode in a 
horse-car one day. Did it for a lark. Made a bet I would 
wide in a horse-car, 'pon my soul, I did. So I went out on 
the pavement before the club-house and called one. I said, 
tl Horse-car! horse-car!" but not one of 'em stopped, 
weally ! Then I saw that fellahs wun after them— played 
tag with them, you know, as the dweadful little girls do 
when school is coming out. And sometimes they caught 
the cars — ah — and sometimes they did not. So I wun after 
one, I did weally, and I caught it. I was out of breath, 
you know, and a fellah on the platform— a conductor 
fellah — poked me in the back and said, " Come ! move up ! 
make room for this lady !" Ah — by Jove he did, you 
know ! I looked for the lady so {eye-glass business), but 
I could see no lady, and I said so. There was a female 
person behind me, with large market-basket, cwowded 
with ah— vegetables and such dweadful stuff— and another 
person with a bundle and another with a baby, you know. 
The person with the basket prodded me in the back with 
it, and I said to the conductor fellah, said I, " Where shall 
I sit down % I— ah— I don't see any seat, you know." 
{Eye-glass business.) " The seats seem to be occupied by 
persons, conductor," said I. " Where shall I sit V 

He was wude, very wude, indeed, and he said, " You 
can sit on your thumb if you have a mind to." And when 
I wemonstrated with him upon the impwopwiety of telling 
a gentleman to sit on his thumb, he told me to go to 
thunder. " Go to thunder !" he did, indeed. After a while 
one of the persons got out and I sat down ; it was vewy 
disagweeable ! Opposite me there were several persons 
belonging to the labowing classes, with what I pwesume 
to be lime on their boots ; and tin kettles which they car- 



THE SWELL. 69 

ried for some mysterious purpose in their hands. There 
was a person with a large basket, and a colored person. 
Next to me there sat a fellah that had been eating onions ! 
'Twas vewy offensive! I couldn't stand it! No fellah 
could, you know. I had heard that if any one in a car was 
annoyed by a fellah-passenger he should weport it to the 
conductor. So I said, " Conductor ! put this person out of 
tne car ! he aunoys me vewy much. He has been eating 
onions." But the conductor fellah only laughed. He did, 
indeed ! And the fellah that had been eating onions said, 
" Hang yer iinpidence, what do ye mean by that ?" " It's 
extwemely disagweeable, you know, to sit near one who 
has been eating onions," said I. " I think you ought to 
resign, get out, you know." And then, though I'm sure I 
spoke in the most respectfully manner, he put his fist 
under my nose and remarked, u You'll eat that, hang you, 
in a minute!" he did indeed. And a fellah opposite said, 
" Put a head on him, Jim !" I suppose from his tone that 
it was some colloquial expwession of the lower orders, re- 
ferring to a personal attack. It was vewy disagweeable, 
indeed. I don't see why any fellah ever rides in the horse- 
cars. But I didn't rant a ror, you knor. A fellah is 
apt to get a black eye, and a black eye spoils one's ap- 
pearance, don't you think? So I said, " Beg pardon, I'm 
Bnre." The fellah said, " Oh, hang you !" he did, indeed. 
He was a very ill-bred person. And all this time the car 
kept stopping and more persons of the lower orders kept 
getting on. A very dweadful woman with a vewy dwead- 
ftil baby stood right before me, intercepting my view of 
the street; and the baby had an orange in one hand 
and some candy in the other. And I ras wondering rhy 
persons of the lorer classes were allowed to have such 
dirty babies, and why Bergh or some one didn't interfere, 
you know, when, before I knew what she was doing, that 
dreadful woman sat that dweadful baby wight down on 
mv 1,-w ! She did, indeed. And it took hold of my shirt 



70 THE LITTLE STOW- A WAY. 

bosom with one of its sticky hands and took my eye-glass 
away with the other, and upon my honor, I'm quite lost 
without my eye-glass. " You'll have to kape him till I 
find me money," said the woman. " Weally !" said I, 
,( I'm not a nursery-maid ma'am." Then the people about 
me laughed, they did, indeed. I could not endure it. I 
jumped up and dwopped the baby in the straw. " Stop 
the car, conductor," said I, " stop the car." What do yoa 
suppose he said? " Hurry up now, be lively, be lively, 
don't keep me waiting all day!" And I was about to 
wemonstrate with him upon the impwopwiety of speaking 
so to a gentleman, when he pushed me off the car. That 
was the only time I ever wode in a horse-car. I wonder 
why fellahs ever do wide in horse-cars ? I should think 
they would pwefer cabs, you know. 



THE LITTLE STOW-AWAY. 

Abridged for Public Beading. 

* * * u would ye like to hear about it V> 

I eagerly assent ; and the narrator, knocking the ashes 
out of his pipe, folds his brawny arms upon the top of the 
rail, and commences as follows : 

II 'Bout three years ago, afore I got this berth as I'm in 
now, I was second engineer aboard a Liverpool steamer 
bound for New York. There'd been a lot of extra cargo 
sent down just at the last minute, and we'd had no end of 
a job stowin' it away, and that ran us late o' startin' ; so 
that, altogether, you may think, the cap'n warn't in the 
sweetest temper in the world, nor the mate neither ; as for 
the chief-engineer, he was an easy-goin' sort of a chap, as 
nothing on earth could put out. But on the mornin' of the 
third day out from Liverpool, he cum down to me in a pre- 



THE LITTLE STOW-AWAY. 71 

cious hurry, lookin' as if somethin' had put him out pretty 
considerably. 

" ' Tom,' says he, ' what d'ye thick ? Blest if we ain't 
found a stow-away.' (That's the name, you know, sir, as 
we gives to chaps as hide theirselves aboard outward- 
bound vessels, and gets carried out unbeknown to every- 
body.) 

" ' The dickens you have P says I. ' Who is he, and 
where did you find him V 

" ' Well, we found him stowed away among the casks 
for'ard ; and ten to one we'd never ha' twigged him at all, 
if the skipper's dog hadn't sniffed him out and begun bark- 
in'. Such a nice little mite as he is, too ! I could ha' 
most put him in my baccy-pouch, poor little beggar ! but 
he look to be a good-plucked un for all that.' 

" I didn't wait to hear no more, but up on deck like a 
sky-rocket : and there I did see a sight, and no mistake. 
Every man -Jack o' the crew, and what few passengers we 
had aboard,' was all in a ring on the fo'c'stle, and in the 
middle was the fust-mate, lookin' as black as thunder. 
Right in front of him, looking a reg'lar mite among them 
big fellers, was a little bit o' a lad not ten year old — rag- 
ged as a scare-crow, but with bright, curly hair, and a 
bonnie little face o' his own, it it hadn't been so woful thin 
and pale. But, bless your soul ! to see the way that little 
chap held his head up, and looked about him, you'd ha' 
thought the whole ship belonged to him. The mate was 
a great hulkin' black-bearded feller, with a look that 'ud 
ha' frightened a horse, and a voice fit to make one jump 
through a key-hole j but the young un warn't a bit afeard 
— he stood straight up, and looked him full in the face 
with them bright, clear eyes o' his'n, for all the world as if 
he was Prince Halferd himself. Folk did say arterwards " 
— lowering his voice to a whisper — " as how he corned o> 
better blood nor what he seemed ; and, for my part, I'm 
rayther o' that way o' thinkin' myself ; for I never yet see'd 



72 THE LITTLE STOW- AWAY. 

a common street Harab— as they calls them now — carry it 
oft' like him. You might ha' heered a pin drop, as the 
mate spoke. 

" ' Well, you young whelp/ says he, in his grimmest 
voice, ' what's brought you here V 

'■ ' It was my step-father as done it/ says the boy, in a 
weak little voice, but as steady as could be. ' Father's 
dead, and mother's married again, and my new father says 
as how he won't have no brats about eatin' up his wages ; 
and he stowed me away when nobody warn't looking and 
guv me some grub to keep me goin' for a day or two till I 
got to sea. He says I'm to go to Annt Jane, at Halifax ; 
and here's her address.' And with that, he slips his hand 
into the breast of his shirt, and out with a scrap o' paper, 
awful dirty and crumpled up, but with the address on it, 
right enough. 

"We all believed every word on't, even without the 
paper; for his look, and his voice, and the way he spoke, 
was enough to show that there warn't a ha'porth o' lyin' 
in his whole skin. But the mate didn't seem to swallow 
the yarn at all ; he only shrugged his shoulders with a kind 
o' grin, as much as to say, ' I'm too old a bird to be caught 
by that kind o' chaff/ and then he says to him, 'Look 
here, my lad, that's all very fine, but it won't do here — 
some o' these men o' mine are in the secret, and I mean to 
have it out of 'em. Now, you just point out the man as 
stowed you away and fed you, this very minute; if you 
doan't, it'll be the worse for%pu !' 

" The boy looked up in his bright, fearless way (it did my 
heart good to look at him, the brave little chap !) and says, 
quietly, ' I've told you the truth; I ain't got no more to say.' 

" The mate says nothiu', but looks at him for a miuute 
as if he'd see clean through him ; and then he faced round 
to the men, lookin' blacker than ever. ' Eeeve a rope to 
the yard!' he sings out, loud enough to raise the dead; 
1 smart now !' 



THE LITTLE STOW- AWAY. 73 

" The men all looked at each other, as much as to say : 
1 What on earth's a-coinin' now V But aboard ship, o' 
course, when you're told to do a thing, you've got to do it : 
so the rope was rove in a jiffy. 

" ' Now, my lad,' says the mate, in a hard, square kind 
o' voice that made every word seem like fittin' a stone into 
a wall, ' you see that 'ere rope f Well, I'll give you ten 
minutes to confess ; and if you don't tell the truth afore the 
time's up, I'll hang you like a dog !' 

" The crew all stared at one another as if they couldn't 
believe their ears (I didn't believe mine, I can tell ye), and 
then a low growl went among 'em, like a wild beast awak- 
in' out of a nap. 

u ' Silence, there !' shouts the mate, in a voice like the 
roar of a nor'easter. ' Stand by to run forard !' as he held 
the noose ready to put it round the boy's neck. The little 
feller never flinched a bit j but there was some among the 
sailors (big strong chaps, as could ha' felled an ox) as shook 
like leaves in the wind. As for me, I bethought myself o' 
my little curly-haired lad at home, and how it 'ucl be if 
any one was to go for to hang him ; and at the very 
thought on't I tingled all over, and my fingers clinched 
theirselves as if they was a-grippin' somebody's throat. 
I clutched hold o' a hand-spike, and held it behind my 
back, all ready. 

" i Tom,' whispers the chief- engineer to me, 'd'ye think 
he really means to do it V 

" ' I don't know,' says I, through my teeth ; ' but if he 
does, he shall go first, if I swings for it !' 

" I've been in many an ugly scrape in my time, but I 
never felt 'arf as bad as I did then. Every minute seemed 
as long as a dozen : an' the tick o' the mate's watch, reg'- 
lar, pricked my ears like a pin. The men were very quiet, 
but there was a precious ugly look on some o ? their faces ; 
and I noticed that three or four on 'em kep' edgin' for'ard 
to where the mate was, in a way that meant mischief. As 



74 THE LITTLE STOW-AWAY. 

for me, I'd made up my mind that if he did go for to hang 
the poor little chap, I'd kill him on the spot, and take my 
chance. 

u ' Eight minutes,' says the mate, his great deep voice 
breakin' in upon the silence like the toll o' a funeral bell. 
1 If you've got anything to confess, my lad, you'd best out 
with it, for ye're time's nearly up.' 

" ' I've told you the truth,' answers the boy, very pale, but 
as firm as ever. ' May I say my prayers, please V 

" The mate nodded, and down goes the poor little chap 
on his knees and puts up his poor little hands to pray. I 
couldn't make out what he said (fact, my head was in sich 
a whirl that I'd hardly ha' knowed my own name), but I'll 
be bound God heard it, every word. Then he ups on his 
feet again, and puts his hands behind him, and says to the 
mate quite quietly, ' I'm ready !' 

" And then, sir the mate's hard, grim face broke up all 
to once, like I've seed the ice in the Baltic. He snatched 
up the boy in his arms, and kissed him and burst out 
a-cryin' like a child ; and I think there warn't one of us as 
didn't do the same. I know I did for one. 

" ' God bless you, my boy !' says he, smoothin' the child's 
hair with his great hard hand. * You're a true English- 
man, every inch of you : you wouldn't tell a lie to save 
your life ! Well, if so be as yer father's cast yer off, I'll 
be yer father from this day forth ; and if I ever forget you, 
then may God forget me !' 

" And he kep' his word, too. When we got to Halifax 
he found out the little un's aunt, and gev her a lump o' 
money to make him comfortable ; and now he goes to see 
the youngster every voyage, as reg'lar as can be j and to 
see the pair on 'em together — the little chap so fond of him, 
and not bearin' him a bit o' grudge — it's 'bout as pretty 
a sight as ever I seed. And now, sir, axm' yer parding, 
it's time for me to be goin' below ; so III just wish yer 
good-night." 



"SURLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 75 



" SURLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 

MKS. I'EANCES HODGSON BURNETT. 

A LANCASHIRE STORY. 

From Scribner's Monthly. 

Abridged for Public Reading. 

Surly Tim is represented to have been an operative in one of 
the large manufactories in the north of England. He had gained 
the name of "Surly Tim" through his strange demeanor toward 
his companions, often refusing to answer their questions or per- 
form any of the ordinary civilities, on account of which his fellow 
workmen had given him the cold shoulder and dubbed him " Surly 
Tim." But one of the partners of the firm took a great deal of 
interest in Tim, thinking there must be something beneath the 
rough exterior, and so endeavored from time to time to draw him 
out, but without success, until one night, as he was going home, he 
chanced to pass the village churchyard, and heard a noise as of a 
man in distress just over the fence. Getting over to speak to 
him, he discovered that the man was none other than Surly Tim, 
sitting by two graves, one the longer and the other a shorter. 
Shortly, being, grateful for the sympathy thus extended him, 
"Surly Tim " begins to tell his story, and why it is that he con- 
ducts himself as he does. It seems that some years before he had 
been married to a very lovely woman ; but that she had previously 
been married to a soldier, one Phil Brent, who had beaten and 
abused her and finally deserted her and gone into the army, and 
whom she had heard by letter was killed at the Crimea. Suppos- 
ing herself free again, of course, she had married Tim. He, after 
describing the courtship up to a little time before then* marriage, 
says of her in his broad north-of-England dialect : 

Eosanna Brent an' me got to be good friends, an' we 
walked home together o' nights, an' talked about our bits 
o' wage, an' our bits o' debt, an' th' way that wench 'ud 
keep me up V spirits when I were a bit down-hearted about 
owt, wur just a wonder. An' bein' as th' lass wur so dear 
to me, I made up my mind to ax her to be summat dearer. 
So cnee goin' home wi' her, I takes hold o' her hand an' 



76 " SURLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 

lifts it up an' kisses it gentle— as gentle an' wi' summat th' 
same feelin' as I'd kiss the Good Book. 

" 'Sanna," I says, " bein' as yo've had so much trouble 
wi' yo're first chance, would yo' be afeard to try a second ? 
Could yo' trust a mon again f Such a mon as me, 'Sauna f 

" I wouldna be feart to trust thee, Tim," she answers 
back soft an' gentle after a manner. " I wouldna be feart 
to trust thee any time." 

I kisses her hand again, gentler still. 

" God bless thee, lass," I says. " Does that mean yes f 

She crept up closer to me i' her sweet, quiet way. 

" Aye, lad," she answers. u It means yes, an' I'll bide 
by it." 

" An' tha shalt never rue it, lass," said I. " Tha's gi'en 
thy life to me, an' I'll gi' mine to thee, sure an true." 

So we wur axed i' th' church th' next Sunday, an' a 
month fra' then we were wed ; an' if ever God's sun shone 
on a happy mon, it shone on one that day, when we come 
out o' church together — me an' Eosanna — an' went to our 
bit o' a home to begin life again. I couldna tell thee, Mes- 
ter— theer bean't no words to tell how happy an' peaceful 
we lived fur two year after that. My lass never altered 
her sweet ways, an' I just loved her to make up to her fur 
what had gone by. I thanked God-a'-ruoighty fur his 
blessin' every day, an' every day I prayed to be made worthy 
of it. An' here's just wheer I'd like to ax a question, 
Mester, about summat ; at's worretted me a good deal. I 
dunnot want to question th' Maker, but I would loike to 
know how it is 'at sometime it seems 'at we're clean forgot 
— as if He couldna fash hissen about our troubles, an' most 
loike left 'em to work out theirsens ? Yo' see, Mester, and 
we aw see sometime, He thinks on us an' gi's us a lift; but 
hasna tha thysen seen times when tha stopt short and axed 
thysen, " Wheer's God-a'-moighty, 'at he disna straighten 
things out a bit ? Th' world's i' a power o' a snarl. Th' 
righteous is forsaken, 'n' his seed's beggin' bread. An 7 th' 



" SURLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 77 

devil's topmost again." I've talked to my lass about it 
sometime, an' I dunnot think I meant harm, Mester, for I 
felt humble enough— an' when I talked, my lass she'd lis- 
ten an' smile soft and sorrowful, but she never gi' me but 
one auswer. 

"Tim," she'd say, "this is on'y th' skoo 7 , an' we're the 
scholars, an' He 7 s teachin' us His way. The Teacher would- 
na be o' much use, Tim, if the scholars knew as much as he 
did, an' I allers think it's th' best to comfort mysen wi' 
sayiu', ' The Lord-a'-moighty, he knows." 7 

At th' eeud o' lh' year th' child wur born, th' little lad 
here," touching the turf with his hand, " 'Wee Wattie' 
his mother ca'd him, an' he wur a fine, lightsome little chap. 
Be filled th' whole house wi' music day in an 7 day out, 
crowin' an' crowin 7 — an' cryin 7 too, sometime. 

Well, Mester, before th' spring wur out Wee Wat was 
toddlin' round, holdin 7 to his mother's gown, an' by th 7 
middle o 7 th' next he was cooin' like a dove, an' prattlin 7 
words i 7 a voice like hers. Happen we set too much store 
by him, or happen it wur on'y th 7 " Teacher again teachin 7 
us His way, but nows'ever that wur, I came home one 
sunny mornin' fro 7 th' factory, an' my dear lass met me at 
th' door all white an 7 cold, but tryin' hard to be brave an 7 
help me to bear what she had to tell. 

" Tim, 77 said she, " th 7 Lord ha' sent us trouble ; but we 
can bear it together, canna we, dear lad "?" 

That wur aw, but I knew what it meant, though th' poor 
little lamb had been well enough when I kissed him last. 

I went in an' saw him lyin' theer on his pillows, strug- 
glin' an 7 gaspin 7 in hard convulsions, an 7 I seed aw was 
over. An 7 in half an hour, just as the sun crept across th 7 
room an' touched his curls, th' pretty little chap opens his 
eyes aw at once. 

" Daddy !" he crows out. " Sithee Dad— " an' he lifts 
hissen up, catches at th 7 floatin 7 sunshine, laughs at it, and 
fa's back— dead, Mester. 



78 " SURLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 

I've allers thowt 'at th' Lord-a'-inoighty knew what he 
wur doin' when he gi' th' woman t' Adam i' the Garden o' 
Eden. He knowed he wur nowt but a poor chap as couldna 
do for hissen ; an' I suppose that's th' reason he gi' the 
woman th' strength to bear trouble when it comn. I'd ha' 
gi'n clean in if it hadna been fur my lass when th' little 
chap deed. 

But the day comn when we could bear to talk about 
him, an' moind things he'd said an' tried to say i' his bro- 
ken, babby way. An' so we were creepin' back again to 
th' old happy quiet, an' we had been for welly six month, 
when summat fresh comn. I'll never forget it, Mester, th' 
neet it happened. I'd kissed Rosanna at th' door, and left 
her standin' theer when I went up to th' village to buy 
summat she wanted. It wur a bright moonlight neet, just 
such a neet as this, an' the lass had followed me out to see 
th' moonshine, it wur so bright an' clear ; an' just before I 
starts she folds both her hands on my shoulder an' says, 
soft and thoughtful : 

" Tim, I wonder if the little chap sees us?" 

" I'd loike to know, dear lass," I answers back. An' then 
she speaks again : 

" Tim, I wonder if he'd know he was ours if he could see, 
or if he'd ha' forgot. He- wur such a little fellow." 

Them wur th' last peaceful words I ever heerd her 
speak. I went up to th' village an' getten what she sent 
me fur, an' then I comn back. 

She wasna outside, an' I couldna see a leet about th' 
house, but I heerd voices, so I walked straight in — into th' 
entry an' into th' kitchen, an' theer she wur, Mester— my 
poor wench, crouching down by th' table, hidin' her face 
i' her hands, and close beside her wur a mon— a mon i' red 
sojer clothes. 

My heart leaped into my throat, an' fur a minnit I hadna 
a word, fur I saw summat wur up, though I couldna tell 
what it wur. But at last my voice comn back. 



"SURLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 7) 

" Good evenin', Mester," I says to him ; " I hope yo' ha' 
not broughten ill news ? What ails thee, dear lass V 1 

She stirs a little, and gives a moan like a dyin' child ; an' 
then she lifts up her wan, broken-hearted face, an' stretches 
out both her hands to me. 

" Tim," she says, " dunnot hate me, lad, dunnot. I 
thowt he wur dead long sin'. I thowt 'at th' Eooshans 
killed him an' I wur free, but I amna. I never wur. Ho 
never deed, Tim, an' theer he is— the mon as I wur wed to 
an' left by. God forgi' him, an' oh, God forgi' me !" 

Theer, Mester, theer's a story fur thee. My poor lass 
wasna my wife at aw — th' little chap's mother wasna his 
feyther's wife, an' never had been. That theer worthless 
fellow as beat an' starved her an' left her to fight th' world 
alone, had comn back alive an' well. He could tak' her 
away fro' me any hour i' th 7 day, an' I couldna say a word 
to bar him. Th' law said my wife— th' little dead lad's 
mother — belonged to him, body an' soul. Theer was no 
law to help us — it wur aw on his side. 

" Tha canna want me now, Phil," she said. u Tha canna 
care fur me. Tha must know I'm more this mon's wifo 
than thine. But I dunnot ax thee to gi' me to him, because 
I know that wouldna be reet ; I on'y ax thee to let me 
alone. I'll go fur enough off an' never see him more." 

But the villain held to her. If she didna come wi' him, 
he said, he'd ha' me up before th' court fur bigamy. I 
could ha' done murder then, Mester, an' I would ha' done, 
if it hadna been for the poor lass rannin' in betwixt us an' 
pleadin' wi' aw her might. If we'n been rich foak theer 
might ha' been some help fur her ; at least th' law might 
ha' been browt to mak' him leave her be, but bein 7 poor 
workin' foak theer was on'y one thing : th' wife mun go wi' 
th' husband, an' theer th' husband stood — a scoundrel, 
cursing, wi' his black heart on his tongue. 

" Well," says th' lass at last, fair wearied out wi' grief, 
" I'll go wi' thee, Phil, an' I'll do my best to please thee, 



80 "SttXLY TIM'S TROUBLE." 

but I wunnot promise to forget th' mon as has been true 
to me, an' has stood betwixt me an' th' world." 

Then she turned round to me. 

" Tim," she says, " surely he wunnot refuse to let us go 
together to th' little lad's grave — fur th' last time." She 
didna speak to him but to me, an' she spoke still an' 
strained as if she wur too heart-broke to be wild. Her face 
was as white as th' dead, but she didna cry, as any other 
woman would ha' done. " Come, Tim," she said, " he 
canna say no to that." 

An' so out we went, an' we didna say a word until we 
come to this very place, Mester. 

We stood here for a minnit silent, an' then I sees her 
begin to shake, an' she throws hersen down on th' grass wi' 
her arms flung o'er th' grave, an' she cries out as ef her 
death-wound had been give to her. 

" Little lad," she says, " little lad, dost ta see thee 
mother ? Canst na tha hear her callin' thee % Little lad, 
get nigh to th' Throne an' plead !" 

I fell down beside o' th' poor crushed wench an' sobbed 
wi' her. I couldna comfort her, fur wheer wur there any 
comfort for us ? Theer wur none left — theer wur no hope. 
We was shamed an' broke down — our lives was lost. Th' 
past wur nowt — th' future wur worsd Oh, my poor lass, 
how hard she tried to pray— for me, Mester— yes, fur me, 
as she lay theer wi' her arms round her dead babby's 
grave, an' her cheek on th' grass as grew o'er his breast. 
" Lord G-od-a'-moighty !" she says, " help us- -dunnot gi' 
us up — dunnot, dunnot ! We canna do 'thowt thee now, if 
th' time ever wur when we could. Th' little chap mun be 
wi' Thee- I moind th' bit o' comfort about getherln' th' 
lambs i' His bosom. An', Lord, if tha could spare him a 
minnit, send him down to us wi' a bit o' leet. Oh, Fey- 
ther ! help th' poor lad here — help him. Let th' weight 
fa' on me, not on him. Just help th' poor lad to bear it. 
If ever I did owt as wur worthy i' Thy sight, let that be 



"SUELY TIM'S TROUBLE." 8L 

my reward. Dear Lord-a'-moighty, I'd be willin' to gi' up 
a bit o' my own heavenly glory fur th' dear lad's sake." 

Well, Mester, she lay theer on th' grass prayin' and cry • 
in', wild but gentle, fur nigh haaf an hour, an' then it 
seemed 'at she got quiet loike, an' she got up. Happen th' 
Lord had hearkened an' sent th' child — happen He had 
— fur when she getten up her face looked to me aw white 
an' shinin' i' th' clear moonlight. 

" Sit down by me, dear lad," she said, " an' hold my hand 
a minnit." I set down an' took hold of her hand, as she 
bid me. 

" Tim," she said, "this wur why th' little chap deed. 
Dostna tha see now 'at th' Lord knew best V 

" Yes, lass," I answers humble, an' lays my face on her 
hand, breakin' down again. 

"Hush, dear lad," she whispers, "we hannot time fur 
that. I want to talk to thee. Wilta listen V> 

" Yes, wife," I says, an' I heerd her sob when I said it, 
but she catches hersen up again. 

" I want thee to mak' me a promise," said she. " I want 
thee to promise never to forget what peace we ha' had. I 
want thee to remember it allers, an' to momd him 'at's 
dead, an' let his little hand howd thee back fro' sin an' 
hard thowts. I'll pray far thee neet an' day, Tim, an' tha 
shalt pray fur me, an' happen theer'll come a leet. But 
ef theer dunnot, dear lad— an' I dunnot see how theer 
could — if theer dunuot, an' we never see each other agen, 
I want thee to mak' me a promise that if tha sees th' little 
chap first tha'lt moind him c me, and watch out wi' him 
nigh th' gate, and I'll promise thee that if I see him 
first, I'll moind him o 7 thee an' watch out true an' con- 
stant." 

I promised her, Hester, as yo' can guess, an' we kneeled 
down an' kissed th' grass, and she took a bit o' th' sod to 
put i' her bosom. An' then we stood up an ; looked at each 
other, an' at last she put her dear face on my breast, an' 



82 THE WATER-MILL. 

kissed ine, as she had done every neet sin' we were mon 
an' wife. 

"Good-bye, dear lad," she whispers— her voice aw 
broken. " Doan't come back to th' house till I'm gone; 
good-bye, dear, dear lad, an' God bless thee !" An' she 
slipped out o' my arms an 7 wur gone in a moment, awmost 
before I could cry out. * * * 

The whole of this beautiful story, with others from Mrs. Burnett's 
charming pen, may be found in a book of hers, called " Surly Tim 
and other Stories/' published by Scribner, Armstrong & Co., H". Y. 



TEE WATER-MILL. 

D. C. McCali.uk. 

Ob ! listen to the water-mill, through all the live-long day, 
As the clicking of the wheels wears hour by hour away ; 
How languidly the autumn wind doth stir the withered leaves, 
As on the field the reapers sing, while binding up the sheaves ! 
A solemn proverb strikes my mind, and as a spell is cast, 
" The mill will never grind again with water that is past." 

The summer winds revive no more leaves strewn o'er earth and 

main, 
The sickle never more will reap the yellow gamored grain ; 
The rippling stream flows ever on, aye tranquil, deep and still, 
But never glideth back again to busy water-mill. 
The solemn proverb speaks to all, with meaning deep and vast, 
"The mill will never grind again with water that is past." 

Oh! clasp the proverb to thy soul, dear loving heart and true, 
For golden years are fleeting by, and youth is passing too; 
Ah ! leankto make the most of life, nor lose one happy day, 
For time will ne'er return sweet joys neglected, tnrown away; 
JSTor leave one tender word unsaid, thy kindness sow broadcast— 
"The mill will never grind again with water that is past." 

Oh ! the wasted hours of fife that have swiftly drifted by, 
Alas ! the good we might have done, all gone without a sigh ; 
Love that we might once have saved by a single kindly word, 



THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 83 

Thoughts conceived but ne'er expressed, perishing, unpenned, 

unheard. 
Oh ! take the lesson to thy soul, forever clasp it fast, 
"The mill will never grind again with water that is past." 

"Work on while yet the sun doth shine, thou man of strength and 

will, 
The streamlet ne'er doth useless glide by clicking water-mill ; 
Nor wait until to-morrow's light beams brightly on thy way, 
For all that thou canst call thine own lies in the nhrase " to-day :" 
Possessions, power, and blooming health must all be lost at last — 
" The mill will never grind again with water that is past." 

Oh ! love thy God and fellow man, thyself consider last, 

For come it will when thou must scan dark errors of the past ; 

Soon will this fight of life be o'er, and earth recede from view, 

And heaven in all its glory shine' where all is pure and true. 

Ah ! then thou'lt see more clearly still the proverb deep and vast, 

" The mill will never grind again with water that is past." 



THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 

ELIZABETH SXUAHT PHELPS. 

Abridged for Public Reading. 

The following is a vivid description of the terrible disaster which 
took place at Lawrence, Mass., January 10th, 1860. It is taken 
from "The Tenth of January," a story of love, jealousy and hero- 
ism, ending in the awful sacrifice here portrayed. The entire story 
can be found in a work by the same author, entitled, "Men, 
Women and Ghosts," published by James R. Osgood & Co. 

[The writer describes Lawrence as " unique in its way/' and says, 
" Of the twenty-five thousand souls who inhabit that citjy, ten 
thousand are operatives in "the factories. Of these ten thousand, 
two-thirds are girls." 

Asenath Martyn was slightly built and undersized. The chil- 
dren used to cry out, " Humpback ! Humpback !" and peoplo in 
passing would say, "Look at that girl!" Her face was gravely 
lined, but womanly and pleasant. The author says, " She puzzled 
one at the first glance, and at the second. An artist, meeting her 



84 THE FALL OF THE PEMBEHTON MILL. 

musing on a canal-bridge one day, went home and painted a May- 
flower budding in February. " The world had, indeed, dealt harsh- 
ly with her. Her deformity had been caused by a blow at the 
hands of a drunken mother. Sene remembered that, and her un- 
happy childhood ; and when the wretched mother had met a vio- 
lent death, she also remembered having heard some one say at the 
funeral, " How glad Sene must be !" Since that, life had meant 
three things— her father, the mills, and Richard Cross. The latter 
had, by chance, become a resident of the same home with Sene 
and her old father. A tender sympathy, combined with a one- 
ness of interests, soon ripened into love and resulted in an engage- 
ment. 

After a time Sene discovered that Dick's affections were being 
drawn away from herself and centred upon Del Ivory, a pretty, 
fascinating, giddy creature, whose beauty she sometimes envied, 
but whose frivolity she despised. Dick, not knowing his secret 
was discovered, was too honorable to think of breaking his engage- 
ment, and consequently attempted to resist and suppress his new 
love by avoiding Del and redoubling his attentions to Sene. The 
latter had long been trying to release him, but could not find the 
courage to do so ; and he, seeing that she suffered, wearied him- 
self with plans to make her eyes shine ; and did she try to speak 
her wretched secret, he suffocated her with kindness, and struck 
her dumb with tender words. It was the morning after the last 
of these ineffectual attempts on Sene's part that this reading opens. ] 

The silent city steeped and bathed itself in rose-tints ; 
the river ran red, and the snow crimsoned on the distant 
New Hampshire hills; Pemberton, mute and cold, frowned 
across the disk of the climbing sun, and dripped, as she 
had seen it drip before, with blood. 

The day broke softly, the snow melted, the wind blew 
warm from the river. The factory-bell chimed cheerily, 
and a few sleepers, in safe, luxurious beds, were wakened 
by hearing the girls sing on their way to work. 

***** 

Sene was a little dizzy that morning — the constant pal- 
pitation of the floors always made her dizzy after a wake- 



THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 85 

ful night— and so her colored cotton threads danced out of 
place and troubled her. 

Dell Ivory, working beside her, said, " How the mill 
shakes ! What's going on V ' 

" It's the new machinery they're h'isting in," observed 
the overseer, carelessly. " Great improvement, but heavy, 
very heavy ; they calc'late on getting it all into place to- 
day ; you'd better be tending to your frame, Miss Ivory." 
***** 

Years before, an unknown workman in South Boston, cast- 
ing an iron pillar upon its core, had suffered it to" float " 
a little, a very little more, till the thin, unequal side cooled 
to the measure of an eighth of an inch. That man had 
provided Aseuath's way of escape. 

She went out at noon with her luncheon, and found a 
place upon the stairs, away from the rest, and sat there 
awhile, with her eyes upon the river, thinking. She could 
not help wondering a little, after all, why God need to have 
made her so unlike the rest of his fair handiwork. Del 
came bounding by, and nodded at her carelessly. Two 
young Irish girls, sisters— the beauties of the mill — mag- 
nificently colored creatures — were singing a little love-song 
together, while they tied on their hats to go home. 

" There are such pretty things in the world !" thought 
poor Sene. 

Did anybody speak to her after the girls were gone ? In- 
to her heart these words fell suddenly, "He hath no form 
nor comeliness. His visage was so marred more than any 
man." 

They clung to her fancy all the afternoon. Sheliked the 
sound of them. She wove them in with her black and dun 
colored threads. 

The wind began at last to blow chilly up the staircases, 
and in at the cracks j the melted drifts out under the wall 
to harden; the sun dipped above the dam; the mill 
dimmed slowly j shadows crept down between the frames. 



86 THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 

" It's time for lights," said Meg Match, and swore a lit- 
tle at her spools. 

Sene, in the pauses of her thinking, heard snatches of the 
girls 7 talk. 

" Going to ask out to-morrow, Meg P 

11 Guess so, yes; me and Bob Smith we thought we'd go 
to Boston, and come up in the theatre train." 

" Del Ivory, I want the pattern of your zouave." 

" Did I go to church ? No, you don't catch me ! If I 
slave all the week, I'll do what I please on Sunday." 

" Hush-sh ! There's the boss looking over here !" 

" Kathleen Donnavon, be still with your ghost stories. 
There's one thing in the world I never will hear about, and 
that's dead people." 

" Del," said Sene, " I think to-morrow — " 

She stopped. Something strange had happened to her 
frame; it jarred, buzzed, snapped: the threads untwisted 
and flew out of place. 

" Curious !" she said, and looked up. 

Looked up to see her overseer turn wildly, clap his hands 
to his head, and fall ; to hear a shriek from Del that froze 
her blood ; to see the solid ceiling gape above her ; to see 
the walls and windows stagger ; to see iron pillars reel, and 
vast machinery throw up its helpless, giant arms, and 
a tangle of human faces blanch and writhe ! 

She sprang as the floor sunk. As pillar after pillar 
gave way, she bounded up an inclined plane, with the 
gulf yawning after her. It gained upon her, leaped at her, 
caught her ; beyond were the stairs and an open door ; 
she threw out her arms, and struggled on with hands and 
knees, tripped in the gearing, and saw, as she fell, a 
square, oaken beam above her yield and crash ; it was of a 
fresh red color ; she dimly wondered why — as she felt her 
hands slip, her knees slide, support, time, place and reason 
go utterly out. 

" At ten minutes before five, on Tuesday, the tenth of Jan- 



THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 87 

uary, the Pemberton Mill, all hands being at the time on 
duty, fell to the ground." 

So the record flashed over the telegraph wires, sprang 
into large type in the newspapers, passed from lip to lip, 
a nine days' wonder, gave place to the successful candi- 
date and the muttering South, and was forgotten. 

Who shall say what it was to the seven hundred and fifty 
souls who were buried in the ruins ? What to the eighty- 
eight who died that death of exquisite agony ? What to 
the wrecks of men and women who endure unto this day 
a life that is worse than death ? WTiat to that architect 
aud engineer who, when the fatal pillars were first de- 
livered to them for inspection, had found one broken under 
their eyes, yet accepted the contract, and built with them 
a mill whose thin walls, and wide, unsupported stretches 
might have tottered over massive columns and on flaw- 
less ore ? 

Sene's father, working at Meg Match's shoes — she was 
never to wear those shoes, poor Meg !— heard, at ten min- 
utes before five, what he thought to be the rumble of an 
earthquake under his very feet, and stood with bated 
breath, waiting for the crash. As nothing further ap- 
peared to happen, he took his stick and limped out into the 
street. 

A vast crowd surged through it from end to end. Women 
with white lips were counting the mills— Pacific, Atlantic 7 
Washington— Pemberton ! Where was Pemberton ? 

Where Pemberton had winked its many eyes last night, 
and hummed with its iron lips this noon, a cloud of dust, 
black, silent, horrible, puffed a hundred feet into the air. 

Asenath opened her eyes after a time. Beautiful green 
and purple fights had been dancing about her, but she 
had had no thoughts. It occurred to her now that she 
must have been struck upon the head. The church-clocks 
were striking eight. A bonfire which had been built at a 
distance, to fight the citizens in the work of rescue, cast a 



88 THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 

little gleam in through the debris across her two hands, 
which lay clasped together at her side. One of her fingers, 
she saw, was gone ; it was the finger which held Dick's lit- 
tle engagement ring. The red beam lay across her fore- 
head, and drops dripped from it upon her eyes. Her feet, 
still tangled in the gearing which had tripped her, were 
buried beneath a pile of bricks. 

A broad piece of flooring, that had fallen slantwise, 
roofed her in, and saved her from the mass of ironwork 
overhead, which would have crushed the breath out of 
Hercules. Fragments of looms, shafts and pillars were in 
heaps about. Some one whom she could not see was dying 
just behind her. A little girl who worked in her room — a 
mere child— was crying, between her groans, for her 
mother. Del Ivory sat in a little open space, cushioned 
about with reels of cotton ; she had a shallow gash upon 
her cheek ; she was wringing her hands. They were at 
work from the outside, sawing entrances through the laby- 
rinth of planks. A dead woman lay close by, and Sene 
saw them draw her out. It was Meg Match. One of the 
pretty Irish girls was crushed quite out of sight ; only one 
hand was free ; she moved it feebly. They could hear her 
calling for Jimmy Mahoney, Jimmy Mahoney ! and would 
they be sure and give him back the handkerchief f Poor 
Jimmy Mahoney ! By-and-by she called no more ; and in 
a little while the hand was still. On the other side of the 
slanted flooring some one prayed aloud. She had a little 
baby at home. She was asking God to take care of it for 
her. " For Christ's sake," she said. Sene listened for the 
Amen, but it was never spoken. Beyond they dug a man 
out from under a dead body, unhurt. He crawled to his 
feet, and broke into furious blasphemies. 

Del cried presently that they were cutting them out. 
The glare of bonfires struck through an opening ; saw^s and 
axes flashed ; voices grew distinct. 

" They never can get at me," said Sene. "I must be 



THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 89 

able to crawl. If you could get some of those bricks off of 
my feet, Del !» 

Del took off two or three iu a frightcucd way ; then see- 
ing the blood on them, sat down aud cried. 

A Scotch girl, with one arm shattered, crept up and re- 
moved the pile, then fainted. 

The opening broadened, brightened ; the sweet night- 
wind blew in ; the safe night-sky shone through. Sene's 
heart leaped within her. Out in the wind and under the 
sky she should stand again, after all ! Back in the little 
bright kitchen, where the sun shone, and she could sing a 
song, there would yet be a place for her. She thought of 
her father, of Dick, of the supper-table set for three. Life 
— even her life, grew sweet, now that it was slipping from 
her. She worked her head from under the beam, and 
raised herself upon her elbow. At that moment she heard 
a cry: 

" Fire ! fire ! God Almighty help them — the ruins 

ARE ON FIRE !" 

A man working over the debris from the outside had 
taken the notion — it being rather dark just there — to carry 
a lantern with him. 

" For God's sake," a voice cried from the crowd, "don't 
stay there with that light V* 

But before the word had died upon the air, it was the 
dreadful fate of the man with the lantern to let it fall, and 
it broke upon the ruined mass. 

That was at nine o'clock. What there was to see from 
then till morning could never be told or forgotten. 

A network twenty feet high, of rods and girders, of 
beams, pillars, stairways, gearing, roofing, ceiling, wailing ; 
wrecks of looms, shafts, twisters, pulleys, bobbins, mules, 
locked and interwoven ; wrecks of human creatures wedged 
in ; a face that you know turned up at you from some pit 
which twenty-four hours' hewing could not open; a voice 
that you know crying after you from God knows where ; a 



90 THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 

mass of long, fair hair visible here, afoot there, three lingers 
of a hand over there ; the snow bright-red underfoot; charred 
limbs and headless trunks tossed about ; strong men carry- 
ing covered things by you, at sight of which other strong 
men have fainted ; the little yellow jet that flared up, and 
died in smoke, and flared again, leaped out, licked the cot- 
ton bales, tasted the oiled machinery, crunched the netted 
wood, danced on theheaped-up stone, threw its cruel arms 
high into the night, roared for joy at helpless firemen, 
and swallowed wreck, death and life together out of your 
sight — the lurid thing stands alone in the gallery of tragedy. 

" Del," said Sene, presently, " I smell the smoke." And 
in a little while, " How red it is growing away over there 
at the left!" 

To lie here and watch the hideous redness crawling after 
her, springing at her ! — it had seemed greater than reason 
could bear, at first. 

Now it did not trouble her. She grew a little faint, and 
her thoughts wandered. She put her head down upon her 
arm, and shut her eyes. Dreamily she heard them saying 
a dreadful thing outside, about one of the overseers j at 
the alarm of fire he had cut his throat, and before the 
flames touched him he was taken out. Dreamily she heard 
Del cry that the shaft behind the heap of reels was 
growing hot. Dreamily she saw a tiny puff of smoke 
struggle through the cracks of a broken fly-frame. 

They were working to save her, with rigid, stern faces. 
A plank snapped, a rod yielded ; they drew out the Scotch 
girl ; her hair was singed ; then a man with blood upon his 
face and wrists held down his arms. 

" There's time for one more ! God save the rest of ye — 
I can't !» 

Del sprang j then stopped — even Del — stopped ashamed, 
and looked back at the cripple. 

Asenath at this sat up erect. The latent heroism in her 
awoke. All her thoughts grew clear and bright. The 



THE FALL OE THE PEMBERTON MILL. 91 

tangled skein of her perplexed and troubled winter 
unwound suddenly. This, then, was the way. It was "bet- 
ter so. God had provided himself a lamb for the burnt of- 
fering. 

So she said, " Go, Del, and tell him I sent you with my 
dear love, and that it's all right." 

And Del at the first word went. 

Sene sat and watched them draw her out ; it was a slow 
process ; the loose sleeve of her factory sack was scorched. 

Somebody at work outside turned suddenly and caught 
her. It was Dick. The love which he had fought so long 
broke free of barrier in that hour. He kissed her pink arm 
where the burnt sleeve fell off. He uttered a cry at the 
blood upon her face. She turned faint with the sense of 
safety ; and, with a face as white as her own, he bore her 
away in his arms to the hospital, over the crimson snow. 

Asenath looked out through the glare and smoke with 
parched lips. For a scratch upon the girl's smooth cheek, 
he had quite forgotten her. They had left her, tombed 
alive here in this furnace, and gone their happy way. Yet 
it gave her a curious sense of relief and triumph. If this 
were all that she could be to him, the thing which she had 
done was right, quite right. God must have known. She 
turned away, and shut her eyes again. 

When she opened them, neither Dick, nor Del, nor 
crimsoned snow, nor sky, were there; only the smoke 
writhing up a pillar of blood-red flame. 

The child who had called for her mother began to sob 
out that she was afraid to die alone. 

"Come here, Molly," said Sene. "Can you crawl 
around V 

Molly crawled around. 

u Put your head in my lap, and your arms about my 
waist, and I will put my hands in yours — so. There ! I 
guess that's better." 

But they had not given them up yet. In the still un 



92 THE FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILL. 

burnt rubbish at the right, some one had wrenched an 
opening within a foot of Sene's face. They clawed at the 
solid iron pintles like savage things. A fireman fainted in 
the glow. 

" Give it up !" cried the crowd from behind. " It can't 
be done ! Fall back !" — then hushed, awe-struck. 

An old man was crawling along upon his hands and 
knees over the heated bricks. He was a*very old man. 
His gray hair blew about in the wind. 

" I want my little gal!" he said. ''Can't anybody tell 
me where to find my little gal f w 

A rough- looking young fellow pointed in perfect^silence 
through the smoke. 

" Fll have her out yet. I'm an old man, but I can help. 
She's my little gal, ye see. Hand me that there dipper of 
water ; it'll keep her from choking, may be. Now ! keep 
cheery, Sene ! Your old father '11 get ye out. Keep up 
good heart, child ! That's it !" 

" It's no use, father. Don't feel bad, father. I don't 
mind it very much." 

He hacked at the timber ; he tried to laugh ; he bewil- 
dered himself with cheerful words. 

" No more ye needn't, Senath, for itll be over in a min- 
ute. Don't be downcast yet ! Well have ye safe at home 
before ye know it. Drink a little more water — do now ! 
They'll get at ye now, sure !" 

But above the crackle and roar a woman's voice rang 
out like a bell : 

« "We're going home, to die no more." 

A child's notes quavered in the chorus. From sealed and 

unseen graves, white young lips swelled the glad refrain — 

" "We're going, going home." 

The crawling smoke turned yellow, turned red. Voice 
after voice broke and hushed utterly. One only sang on 
like silver. It flung defiance down at death. It chimed 



DEATH OF LITTLE JO. 93 

into the lurid sky without a tremor. For One stood beside 
her in the furnace, and His form was like unto the form of 
the Son of God. Their eyes met. Why should not Ase- 
nath sing? 

"Senath!" cried the old man out upon the burning 
bricks ; he was scorched now, from his gray hair to his 
patched boots. 

The answer came triumphantly : 

"To die no more, no more, no more I" 

"Sene! little Sene !" 

_ .__ 

DEATH OF LITTLE JO. 

From "Bleak House." 

Jo is very glad to see his old friend ; and says, when 
they are left alone, that he takes it uncommon kind as 
Mr. Sangsby should come so far out of his way on accounts 
of sich as him. Mr. Sangsby, touched by the spectacle be- 
fore him, immediately lays upon the table half-a-crown, 
that magic balsam of his for all kinds of wounds. 

" And how do you find yourself, my poor lad f inquires 
the stationer, with his cough of sympathy. 

" I'm in luck, Mr. Sangsby, I am," returns Jo, " and don't 
want for nothink. I'm more cumf bier nor you can't think, 
Mr. Sangsby. I'm wery sorry that I done it, but I didn't 
go fur to do it, sir." 

The stationer softly lays down another half-crown, and 
asks him what it is that he is sorry for having done. 

" Mr. Sangsby," says Jo, " I went and giv a illness to 
the lady as wos and yet as warn't the t'other lady, and 
none of 'em never says nothink to me for having done it, 
on accounts of their being so good and my having been s' 
unfortnet. The lady come herself and see me yes'day, 
and she ses, ' Ah Jo !' she ses. ' We thought we'd lost 



94 DEATH OF LITTLE JO. 

you, Jo V she ses. And she sits down a smilin' so quiet, 
and don't pass a word nor yit a look upon me for having 
done it, she dou't, and I turns agin the wall, I doos, Mr. 
Saugsby. And Mr. Jarnders, I see hiin a forced to turn 
away his own self. And Mr. Woodcot, he come fur to 
give me somethiuk fur to ease me, wot he's alius a doin' 
on day and night, and w'en he come a-bendin' over me 
and a-speakin' up so bold, I see his tears a-fallin', Mr. 
Sangsby." 

The softened stationer deposits another half-crown on 
the table. Nothing less than a repetition of that infallible 
remedy will relieve his feelings. 

" Wot I wos thinkin' on, Mr. Sangsby," proceeds Jo, 
" wos, as you wos able to write wery large, p'raps f 

" Yes, Jo, please God," returns the stationer. 

"Uncommon precious large, p'rap3 V says Jo, with 
eagerness. 

" Yes, my poor boy." 

Jo laughs with pleasure. " Wot I wos thinkrn' on then, 
Mr. Sangsby, wos, that wen I wos moved on as fur as ever 
I could go, and couldn't be moved no furder, whether you 
might be so good, p'raps, as to write out, wery large, so 
that any one could see it anywheres, as that I wos wery 
truly hearty sorry that I done it, and that I never went fur 
to do it ; and that though I didn't know nothink. at all, I 
know'd as Mr. Woodcot once cried over it, and wos alius 
grieved over it, and that I hoped as he'd be able to forgive 
me in his mind. If the writin' could be made to say it 
wery large he might." 

" It shall say it, Jo ; very large." 

Jo laughs again. " Thankee, Mr. Sangsby. It's wery 
kind of you, sir, and it makes me more comf bier nor I wos 
afore." 

The meek little stationer, with a broken and unfinished 
cough, slips down his fourth half-crown— he has never been 
so close to a case requiring so many — and is fain to depart. 



DEATH OF LITTLE JO. 95 

And Jo and he, upon this little earth, shall meet no more. 
No more. 

{Another Scene. — Enter Mr. Woodcot.) 

11 Well, Jo, what is the matter ? Don't be frightened." 

" I thought," says Jo, who has started, and is looking 
round, u I thought I was in Tom-all-Alone's agin. An't 
there nobody here but you, Mr. Woodcot V* 

" Nobody." 

" And I an't took back to Tom-all- Alone' s ; am I, sir V 7 

"No." 

Jo closes his eyes, muttering, " I am wery thankful." 

After watching him closely a little while, Allan puts his 
mouth very near his ear t and says to him in a low, distinct 
voice : " Jo, did you ever know a prayer?" 

" Never know'd nothink, sir." 

" Not so much as one short prayer V } 

"No, sir. Nothink at all. Mr. Chadbands he wos a 
prayin' wunst at Mr. Sangsby's and I heerd him, but he 
sounded as if he wos a-speakin' to hisself, and not to me. 
He prayed a lot, but I couldn't make out nothink on it. 
Different times there wos other gen'l'men come down Tom- 
all- Alone's a-prayin', but they all mostly sed as the t'other 
wuns prayed wrong, and all mostly sounded to be a-talkin' 
to theirselves, or a-passing blame on the t'others, and not 
a-talkin' to us. We never know'd nothink. I never 
know'd what it wos all about." 

It takes him a long time to say this ; and few but an ex- 
perienced and attentive listener could hear, or, hearing, 
understand him. After a short relapse into sleep or 
stupor, he makes, of a sudden, a strong effort to get out of 
bed. 

" Stay, Jo, stay ! What now V 1 

" It's time for me to go to that there berryin' ground, 
sir," he returns with a wild look. 

"Lie down, and tell me. What burying ground, Jo W 

" Where they laid him as wos wery good to me ; wery 



96 DEATH OF LITTLE JO. 

good to me, indeed, he wos. It's time for me to go down 
to that there benyin' ground, sir, and ask to be put along 
with him. I wants to go there and be berried. He used 
for to say to me, 4 am as poor as you, to-day, Jo/ he ses. 
I wants to tell him that I am as poor as him, now,, and 
have come there to be laid along with him." 

" By-and-by, Jo ; by -and-by." 

" Ah ! Prhaps they wouldn't do it if 1 wos to go myself. 
But will you promise to have me took there, sir, and laid 
along with him V 

" I will, indeed." 

" Thankee, sir ! Thankee, sir ! They'll have to get the 
key of the gate afore they can take me in, for it's alius 
locked. And there's a step there, as I used fur to clean 
with my broom — it's turned wery dark, sir. Is there any 
light a-comin' f 

" It is coming fast, Jo." 

Fast. The cart is shaken all to pieces, and the rugged 
road is very near its end. 

"Jo, my poor fellow !" 

" I hear you, sir, in the dark, but I'm a-gropin' — a-gropin' 

let me catch hold of your hand." 

" Jo, can you say what I say ?" 

11 I'll say anything as you say, sir, for I knows it's good." 

"Our Father." 

" Our Father ! — yes, that's wery good, sir." 

" Which art in Heaven." 

" Art in Heaven ! — Is the light a-ccmin', sir V 

il It is close at hand. Hallowed be thy name." 

" Hallowed be — thy — name !" 

The light is come upon the dark benighted way. Dead. 
Dead, your Majesty. Dead, my lords and gentlemen. 
Dead, Eight Reverends and Wrong Reverends of every 
order. Dead, men and women, born with heavenly com- 
passion in your hearts. And dying thus around us every 
dayl 



THE SOLDIER'S REPRIEVE. 97 



THE SOLDIER'S REPRIEVE. 

Abridged for Public Beading. 

" I thought, Mr. Allan, when I gave my Bennie to his 
country, that not a father in all this broad land made so 
precious a gift— no, not one. The dear boy only slept a 
minute, just one little minute, at his post ; I know that 
was all, for Bennie never dozed over a duty. How 
prompt and reliable he was ! I know he only fell asleep 
one little second— he was so young, and not strong, that 
hoy of mine! Why, he was as tall as I, and only eight- 
een ! and now they shoot him because he was found asleep 
when doing sentinel duty. Twenty-four hours, the tele- 
gram said— only twenty-tOur hours. Where is Bennie 
now ?" 

"We will hope, with his heavenly Father," said Mr. 
Allan, soothingly. 

" Yes, yes j let us hope ; God is very merciful ! 
' " ' I should be ashamed, father/ Bennie said, l when I 
am a man, to think I never used this great right arm 7 — 
and he held it out so proudly before me — l for my country, 
when it needed it. Palsy it rather than keep it at the 
plow.' 

" * Go, then, go, my boy,' I said, ' and God keep you P 
God has kept him, I think, Mr. Allan !" and the farmer re- 
peated these last words slowly, as if, in spite of his reason, 
his heart doubted them. 

" Like the apple of his eye, Mr. Owen ; doubt it not." 

Blossom sat near them listening, with blanched cheek. 
She had not shed a tear. Her anxiety had been so con- 
cealed that no one had noticed it. She had occupied her- 
self mechanically in the household cares. Now she an- 
swered a gentle tap at the kitchen door, opening it to re- 
ceive from a neighbor's hand a letter. " It is from him," 
was all she said. 

It was like a message from the dead ! Mr. Owen took 



98 THE soldier's reprieve. 

the letter, but could not break the envelope, on account of 
his trembling fingers, and held it toward Mr. Allan, with 
the helplessness of a child. 

The minister opened it, and read as follows : 

" Dear Father : — When this reaches you I shall be 
in eternity. At first, it seemed awful to me ; but I have 
thought about it so much now, that it has no terror. Tbey 
say they will not bind me, nor blind me ; but that I may 
meet my death like a man. I thought, father, it might 
have been on the battle-field, for my country, and that, 
when I fell, it would be fighting gloriously ; but to be shot 
down like a dog for nearly betraying it — to die for neglect 
of duty ! father, I wonder the very thought does not 
kill me ! But I shall not disgrace you. I am going to 
write you all about it j and when I am gone, you may tell 
my comrades. I cannot now. 

" You know I promised Jemmie Carr's mother I would 
look after her boy ; and when he fell sick I did all I could 
for him. He was not strong when he was ordered back in- 
to the ranks, and the day before that night, I carried all 
his luggage, beside my own, on our march. Towards 
night we went in on double-quick, and though the lug- 
gage began to feel very heavy, everybody else was tired 
too ; and as for Jemmie, if I had not lent him an arm now 
and then, he would have dropped by the way. I was all 
tired out when we came into camp, and then it was Jem- 
mie's turn to be sentry, and I would take his place ; but I 
was too tired, father. I could not have kept awake if a 
gun had been pointed at my head ; but I did not know it 
until— well, until it was too late." 

" God be thanked !" interrupted Mr. Owen, reverently. 
" I knew Bennie was not the boy to sleep carelessly at his 
post." 

"They tell me to-day that I have a short reprieve, given 
to me by circumstances — ' time to write to you/ our good 
colonel says. Forgive him, father, he only does his duty ; 



THE SOLDIER'S REPRIEVE. 99 

he would gladly save me if he could ; and do not lay my 
death up against Jemmie. The poor boy is broken-heart- 
ed, and does nothing but beg and entreat them to let him 
die in my stead. 

f I can't bear to think of mother and Blossom. Comfort 
them, father ! Tell them I die as a brave boy should, and 
that, when the war is over, they will not be ashamed of 
me, as they must be now. God help me ; it is very hard to 
bear! Good-by, father! God seems near and dear to 
me ; not at all as if He wished me to perish forever, but as 
if He felt sorry for His poor, sinful, broken-hearted child, 
and would take me to be with Him and my Saviour in a bet- 
ter, better life." 

A deep sigh burst from Mr. Owen's heart. " Amen," he 
said solemnly, "Amen." 

" To-night, in the early twilight, I shall see the cows all 
coming home from pasture, and precious little Blossom 
stand on the back stoop, waiting for me ! But I shall 
never, never come ! God bless you all ! Forgive your 
poor Bennie." 

Late that night the door of the u back stoop n opened 
softly, and a little figure glided out, and down the foot- 
path that led to the road by the mill. She seemed rather 
flying than walking, turning her head neither to the right 
nor to the left, looking only now and then to Heaven, and 
folding her hands as if in prayer. Two hours later, 
the same young girl stood at the Mill Depot, watching the 
coming of the night train ; and the conductor, as he reached 
down to lift her into the car, wondered at the tear-stained 
face that was upturned toward the dim lantern he held in 
his hand. A few questions and ready answers told him 
all; and no father could have cared more tenderly for his 
only child, than he for our little Blossom. She was on her 
way to Washington, to ask President Lincoln for her 
brother's life. She had stolen away, leaving only a note 
to tell where and why she had gone. She had brought 



100 THE SOLDIER'S REPRIEVE. 

Bonnie's letter with her; no good, kind heart, like the 
President's, could refuse to be melted by it. The next 
morning they reached New York, and the conductor hurried 
her on to Washington. Every minute, now, might be the 
means of saving her brother's life. And so, in an incredi- 
bly short time, Blossom reached the Capital, and hastened 
immediately to the White House. 

The President had but just seated himself to his morn- 
ing task, of overlooking and signing important papers, 
when, without one word of announcement, the door softly 
opened, and Blossom, with downcast eyes and folded 
hands, stood before him. 

" Well, my child," he said, in his pleasant, cheerful 
tones, "what do you want, so bright and early in the 
morning V 1 

" Bennie's life, please, sir," faltered Blossom. 

" Bennie ! Who is Bennie V> 

"My brother, sir. They are going to shoot him for 
sleeping at his post." 

"Oh, yes;" and Mr. Lincoln ran his eye over the pa- 
pers before him. "I remember. It was a fatal sleep. 
You see, child, it was at a time of special danger. Thou- 
sands of lives might have been lost for his culpable negli- 
gence." 

" So my father said," replied Blossom, gravely, " but 
poor Bennie was so tired, sir, and Jemmie so weak : He 
did the work of two, sir, and it was Jemmie's night, not 
his ; but Jemmie was too tired, and Bennie never thought 
about himself, that he was tired, too." 

" What is this you say, child ? Come here ; I do not 
understand," and the kind man caught eagerly, as ever, 
at what seemed to be a justification of an offense. 

Blossom went to him ; he put his hand tenderly on her 
shoulder, and turned up the pale, anxious face towards 
his. How tall he seemed ! and he was President of the 
United States, too. A dim thought of this kind passed 



BROTHER ANDERSON. 101 

for a moment through Blossom's mind; but sbe told her 
simple and straightforward story, aud handed Mr. Lincoln 
Bennie's letter to read. 

He read it carefully ; then, taking up his pen, wrote a 
few hasty lines, and rang his bell. 

Blossom heard this order given : " Send this dispatch at 
once." 

The President then turned to the girl and said, "Go 
home, my child, and tell that father of yours, who could 
approve his country's sentence, even when it took the life 
of a child like that, that Abraham Lincoln thinks the life 
far too precious to be lost. Go back, or — wait until to- 
morrow ; Bennie will need a change after he has so brave- 
ly faced death; he shall go with you." 

"God bless you, sir," said Blossom; and who shall 
doubt that God heard and registered the request ? 

Two days after this interview, the young soldier came to 
the White House with his little sister. He was called into 
the President's private room, and a strap fastened upon 
the shoulder. Mr. Lincoln then said : li The soldier that 
could carry a sick comrade's baggage, and die for the act 
so uncomplainingly, deserves well of his country." Then 
Bennie and Blossom took their way to their Green Moun- 
tain home. A crowd gathered at the Mill Depot to wel- 
come them back; and, as farmer Owen's hand grasped 
that of his boy, tears flowed down his cheeks, and he was 
heard to say fervently : " The Lord be praised /" 



BROTHER ANDERSON. 

THOMAS K. BEECHER 

I was to preach for brother Anderson. He was a good 
pastor. Almost the last time I saw him he had just 
called upon a lamb of his flock to ask after her spiritual 
welfare, and for fifty cents toward his salary. He bad 
left his tub and brushes at the foot of the hill, and he re- 



102 BROTHER ANDERSON. 

sumed them when he had made his call; for, like the 
great apostlo, he used to labor, working with his own 
hands. 

Punctual to the hour, brother Anderson came rolling 
across the street, and up to the door, and we went in to- 
gether. After the usunl songs and prayers, I took for my 
text Paul's counsel to the Corinthians as to their disorder- 
ly meetings and meaningless noises. The sermon was, 
in the main, a reading of the fourteenth chapter of Paul's 
first letter, with comments and applications interspersed. 
I spoke for half an hour, and while showiug consideration 
for the noisy ways of my audience, exhorted them to cul- 
tivate intelligence as well as passion. 

u When you feel the glory of God in you, let it out, of 
course. Shout Glory, clap your hands, and all that. But 
stop now and then, and let some wise elder stand up and 
tell what ifc all means. Men and boys hang round your 
windows, and laugh at you and religion, because they don't 
understand. Some men have religion all in their heads ; 
others in their hearts. Now you must have it in your heads 
and hearts." 

As I sat down Brother Anderson stood on the pulpit 
step to give out a hymn. 

I am not certain that he could read, for he stood book in 
hand, and seemingly from memory gave the number 
of the hymn, and repeated the first two stanzas with deep 
and growing feeling. Of the third he read three lines : 
One army ob de livin' God 
To his comman' we bow ; 
Part of hos (t) 'ov cross'er flood, 
An' part 

Here he stopped, and after swallowing one or two 
chokes, went on to say : I love Brudder Beecher. I love 
to hear him preach. He's told us a good many things. 
He's our good fr'en. An' he sez dat some folks goes up to 
glory noisy 'n shoutin', and some goes still-like, ; z if they's 



BROTHER ANDERSONS 103 

'shamed of wat's in 'em. And be sez we'd better be more 
like de still-kind, an'de white-kind, an' de white folk will 
like us move. But den I tinks 'taint much 'count no way, 
wedder we goes up still-like or shoutin', cause heaven's a 
mighty big place, brudder ; an' wen we all goes marchin' 
up to see de Lord, an' I's so full ob de lub, and de joy, and 
de glory, dat I mus' clap my han's an' shout, de good 
Lord's got some place war we won't 'sturb nobody, aud we 
can shout, Glory ! Glory ! Bress de Lord ! I'm safe, I'm 
safe in glory at las' ; I tell you, brudders an' sisters, dat 
heaven's a mighty big place, and dere's room dare lor 
brudder Beecher an' us too. 

" Brudder Beecher says de engines on de railroad only 
puff, puff, regular breathin'-like, when dey's at work haulm 
de big loads, and dat de bell and whistle don't do no work, 
dey only make a noise ; guess dat's so. I don't know 'bout 
ingins much, and I don't know wedder I's a puff-puff ingin, 
or wedder I blow de whistle an' rings de bell. I feels like 
bofe (with a chuckle) sometimes ! An' I tell you what, 
wen de fire is a burnin', an' I gets de steam up, don't dribe 
no cattle on de track ! 

tl An' de boys an' gals, an' de clarks an' young lawyers, 
dey come up yar watch-nights, and dey peep in de win- 
ders, an' stan' roun' de doors, an' dey laugh an' make fun 
of 'lig'n ! An' Brudder Beecher sez, why don't we stop de 
noise now'n den, an' go out an' tell 'em 'bout it— 'splain it 
to 'em ? An' I 'members what de Bible says 'bout de outer 
darkness, an' de weepin', an' de wailin', an' de gnashin' ob 
de teef. An' if dese boys an' gals stan' dar outside a-laffin', 
bimeby dey'll come to de wailin' an' de weepin' fus' dey 
know. An' den when dey stan' roun' de great temple 
ob de Lord, an' see de glory shinin' out, an' de harpers 
harpin', and all de music, an' de elders bowin', an' all de 
shoutin' like many waters, an' all de saints a-singin' l Glory 
to de Lam' ! ' s'pose God'll say, < Stop dat ar noise dar, 
Gabr'l j you Gabr'l go out an' 'splain' ? 



104 A BASKET OF FLOWERS. 

11 Yes, I see dera stan' las' winter 'roun' de doors an' un- 
der de winders an' laffj an' dey peek in an' laff. An' I 
'member wot I saw last summer 'mong de bees. Some ob 
de hives was nice, an' clean an' still, like 'spectable meetin's, 
an' de odders was a bustin' wid honey ; an' de bees kep' 
a-goin' an' a-comin' in de clover ; an' dey jes kep' on a-ull- 
in' up de hive, till de honey was a-flowin' like de Ian' of 
Canaan. An' I saw all 'roun' de hives was de ants an 7 
worms, an' de great drones, an' black bugs, an' dey kep' 
on de outside. Dey wasn' bees. Dey couldn' make de 
honey for darselves. Dey couldn' fly to de clover an' de 
honey-suckle. Dey jes' hung 'roun' de bustin' hive, an' 
lived on de drippin's. 

11 An' de boys an' gals come up yar, an' hang 'roun'. 
Jes' come in, an' we'll show you how de gospel bees do. 
Come in an' we'll lead you to de clover ! Come in — we'll 
make your wings grow. Come in ! won't ye ? Well den, 
poor things, let 'em stan' 'roun' de outside, an' hab de 
drippin's. We's got honey in dis hive. 
Part of 'e hos' av cross 'er flood, 
An' part are crossin' now. 

" Sing, brudders, sing." And they sang. * * * 



A BASKET OF FLOWEES. 

SARAH BRIDGES STEBBIXS. 

Abridged for Public Reading. 

A few days afterward the Light of the Household went 
forth into the poor places of the neighborhood and brought 
in, one by one, shrinking children, with shabby garments 
and shy glances ; little girls ungathered into schools, un- 
taught of ignorant parents who were slaves of labor, to 
whom was preached no Gospel of salvation from idleness, 
weakness or vice. These, allured in unwillingly at first, 
hard enough for a time to keep together, came at last into 



A BASKET OF ELOWEES. 105 

this quiet chamber as to a holy shrine, sat earnestly at the 
feet of a pale, patient teacher, and learned the ways of 
truth and right. Day by day — for a few minutes only 
sometimes, sometimes for hours, according to her fluctu- 
ating strength — she had them with her, and in the poor 
homes where they belonged the mothers listened with a 
sort of awe to the accounts of this pale lady, lying always 
on her couch, covered with the white, fleecy folds of her 
delicate work, and giving out to little rapt listeners thoughts 
that would abide with them all their lives. 

After a while Christmas was drawing near, and one day 
there was an interesting assemblage of these small scholars 
in a room where one of them lived, whose mother was a 
washerwoman, and upon tubs and buckets they were seat- 
ed in a circle ; and the subject of their meeting and consul- 
tation was, How to Get a Christmas Present for the Crip- 
pled Sister, and what It Should Be. 

Strange and various articles were proposed, to which 
many objections were raised, principally by the little Pres- 
ident, who seemed to think her most important duty was 
to keep the intended expenditure within the limits of the 
probable amount, for which purpose she was obliged to do a 
good many sums out loud. The puzzle was growing deep- 
er, and the likelihood of a decision seemed farther off than 
ever, when Nettie Blane said, in her soft voice : " I know 
what the lady loves more than anything else, and that's 
flowers ! Why, just here a while ago, before it got so cold, 
I found a bunch of wild posies growing alongside the road 
as I was going to her house ; they were just common things, 
but I picked them and took them to her, and you just 
ought to have seen her over them ! Her face lit all up, 
she was so pleased, and do you know that for a minute 
she looked like she never was sick at all; and she kind of 
petted them with her fingers, and thanked me so nice that 
I never was so glad of doing anything in my life !• 

"But flowers die so soon, and then she would never 



106 A BASKET OF FLOWERS. 

have nothin' to keep to make her feel that we'd bin thinkin' 
of her!'' 

An anxious shade fell over Nettie Blane's face, that, how- 
ever, instantly brightened with a new thought. 

" Oh, yes, she would," she said, " because she'd always 
remember ! Don't you know, somehow, if you once get a 
thing, you've always got it, even if you don't see it ? If I 
sell my shells, it don't much matter, really, because when- 
ever I think about them, they'll always be in my heart, 
and I'll always know that Uncle Jim he brought them 
to me over the sea ! M 

Some one murmured, li Things ought to be awful pretty 
to be remembered always !" and the general consent 
seemed to settle without dispute that a basket of flowers 
would be the very sweetest thing in the world to give. 

" And I know of a man who keeps a hot-house just out 
of town," said the young President, " and he looks good- 
humored and kind, so maybe he'll give us something real 
nice for what we'll have to pay!" And soon after the 
meeting dispersed. 

The day before Christmas, as the big, burly and rosy 
owner of the conservatory just out of town was sorting his 
choicest blooms for a large wedding which was to take 
place in the evening, the door of the hot-house suddenly 
opened, and a squadron of a dozen or more small girls en- 
tered in solemn procession. 

" Bless my soul !" said the Gentle Giant, turning his 
bluff, bright face toward them, " what do you young ones 
want V 

For an instant they had stood quite still, looking about 
them in wonder and delight ; for the whole place was so 
rilled with rare and lovely blossoms that its atmosphere, 
color, and profusion was like a concentration of the tropics. 

" If you please, sir, we want to buy a basket of flowers." 

The man dropped the two or three buds he held in his 
hand, turned entirely around, and gave one steady look 



A BASKET OF FLOWERS. 107 

down the whole line ; he saw at once that they were not 
likely to want flowers for themselves, and imagined that 
one or two had been sent on a message, and that the rest 
had accompaDied these. 

" Fo^-— want — to — buy " — he said slowly. 

" Yes, sir, a basket of flowers, if you please." 

" Who for ? and why are there so many of you ?" 

11 Well, sir, I'll tell you. Tou see, sir, there's a dear 
kind lady, and she is a cripple, and never gets off a low 
kind of bed she lays on, and works all the time the most 
beautiful 'broidering flowers you ever seen. Aud she 
teaches us ; so we thought we'd like to give her a Christ- 
mas present, and we've all saved up till we think we've got 
enough ; and because she never can go out to see anything 
a-growing, and just loves flowers like they were alive, we 
made up our minds to take her some ; because we all give 
something toward it we all came together about it j and if 
you please, sir, we'd like as nice a basketful as you can 
make up for our money." 

The rosy face bloomed out bright as one of his own 
blossoms; the round eyes grew wonderfully soft and 
moist, as the big burly man stooped and kissed the small 
speaker, and said, with just a touch of huskiness in his 
voice : 

" Well, you're a blessed little party ! You just go round, 
all of you, and pick out what you'd like to have, and I'll 
fix them up for you !" There was anim mediate stir in the 
young procession, and evident delight in this permission, 
and an intention to put it instantly into practice, when the 
Small Leader called out, " You keep still there, will you ? 
I've got something else to say!" 

Curiosity restored order, and she again addressed the 
gardener. 

" Ain't those grand flowers very dear ? You see, sir, we 
don't want anything we can't pay for ail right. We've got 
this much money j please to count it, sir, and see if it will 



108 A BASKET OF FLOWERS. 

do !" ADd she handed hira a rather battered tin match- 
box containing the accumulated contributions in small 
coins, as they had been gradually brought in as they were 
gaiued. 

The Big Gardener by this time was too much touched to 
keep quite calm. " Here," he said to the Little Leader, 
" you count out this money, and tell me how much it is, 
and I'll do the best I can for it !" And when he took a 
basket and went round his hot-house collecting here and 
there his simplest blooms, all these keen eyes watched him 
in unbroken silence, and not one of them stirred a gaze 
from his fingers as he laid in the moss, propped a superb, 
stainless lily in the centre, and arranged round it with ex- 
quisite taste violets and heart's-ease, and delicate, pure 
blossoms; in breathless quiet they noted every flower that 
was woven into its place, little thinking that these com- 
moner plants which they were used to see in summer were 
almost as costly as foreign growths in winter; and it was 
not till the whole was finished that they broke out into 
exclamations of satisfaction. 

" This must be a mighty good woman to make you love 
her so 1" said the man as he handed over the basket to the 
careful hold of the Little Leader. 

" Good !" answered Nettie Blane, " she's a-most an 
angel ; it seems like she ought never to do anything but 
stand up close to the Throne with just such lilies in her 
hand !" 

For Nettie's inmost heart was stirred by the flowers and 
the occasion. 

The Big Gardener looked at her a second as if he 
thought she might have been a stray cherub herself. 

" That's all your own gift," he said, pointing to the lily- 
crowned basket ; " but would you mind taking her a little 
present from me too V 7 

" It shall only be one flower," he said ; and as a single 
flower in their inexperienced eyes could not possibly com- 



MAHSR JOHN. 109 

pare with a basketful, a happy assent was immediately 
given. 

He went round among his plants to where bloomed one 
magnificent blossom, the only one of its kind in the green- 
house. He broke it from the stalk, and placed it in 
Nettie Blane's hand. " Oh, thank you !" said Nettie's glad 
voice, " I will give it to her with your compliments." And 
then the Big Gardener kissed every one of them as they 
passed out, and stood at his hot-house door, and watched 
the little procession as it wound out of sight with the 
Little Leader at the head, carrying the Basket of Flowers. 



MAHSR JOHN. 

IRWIN RUSSELL. 

From Scribner's Monthly. 

I heahs a heap o' people talkin', ebrywhar I goes, 
'Bout Washintnm an' Franklum, an' seen genuses as dose : 
I s'pose dey's mighty fine, but heah's de p'int I's bettin' on — 
Dere wuzn't nar a one ob 'em come up to Mahsr John. 

He shorely wuz de grates' man de country ebber growed — 
Tou better had git out de way when he come 'long de road ! 
He hel' his head up dis way, lik' he 'spised to see de groun' ; 
An' niggers had to toe de mark when Mahsr John wuz 'roun'. 

I only has to shet my eyes, an' den it seems to me 
I sees him right afore me now, jes' like he use' to be, 
A-settin' on de gal'ry lookin' awful big an' wise, 
"Wid little niggers fannin' him to keep away de flies. 

He alluz wore de berry bes' ob planters' linen suits, 

An' kep' a nigger busy jus' a-blackin' ob his boots; 

De buckles on his galluses wuz made of solid gol', 

An' diamon's !— dey wuz in his shu't as thick as it would hoi'. 

Tou heered me ! 'twas a caution, when he went to take a ride, 
To see him in de kerridge, wid ol' Mistis.by his side — 



110 DADDY FLICK'S SPREE. 

Mulatter Bill a-dribin', an' a nigger on behin' ; 

An' two Kaintucky bosses tuk 'em tearin' whar dey gwine. 

01' Mabsr Jobn wuz pow'ful rieb— be owned a beap o' Ian' ; 
Fibe cotton places, 'sides a sugar place in Loozyan' ; 
He bad a thousan' nigger — an' bo worked 'ern shore's you born ! 
De oberseabs ud start 'ein at de breakin' ob de morn. 

Sometimes be'd gib a frolic— dat's de time you seed de fun ; 
De 'ristocratic fam'lies, dey ud be dar, ebry one , 
Dey'd bab a band from New Orleans to play for 'em to dance, 
An' tell you what, de supper wuz a 'tickler sarcumstance. 

"Well, times is changed ! De war it come an' sot de niggers free, 
An' now ol' Mabsr Jobn ain't hardly wuf as mucb as me; 
He bad to pay bis debts, an' so bis Ian' is mos'ly gone — 
An' I declar' I's sorry for pore ol' Mabsr Jobn. 

But when I heab 'em talkin' 'bout some sullybrated man, 
I listens to 'em quiet, till dey done said all dey can, 
An' den I 'lows dot in dem days, 'at I remembers on, 
Dat gemman warn't a patchin' onto my ol' Mabsr Jobn I 



DADDY FLICK'S SPREE. 

D. L. PROUDFIT. 

Daddy Flick was a queer old Dick, 

Trudging along with a crooked stick, 

Frowsy and dirty and tattered and torn, 

"Wearing a bat that a goat would scorn 

To nibble at, it was so forlorn; 

And I state, with a solemn regard for truth, 

That a garment must be in a state of ruth, 

A very unsavory species of game, 

If an up-town goat will reject the same. 

He ^vas gray as a badger and old as a crow, 

And his eyes were queer— well, beery, you know, 

Bleached and weak — and he had, I suppose, 

The most absurd and peculiar nose 



DADDY FLICK'S SPREE. Ill 

That ever invited a passer-by 
To thiuk of the worth of sobriety, 
taught can I say in his praise, I wot. 
Kespectable ? Honest ? Oh, certainly not ! 
Most people called him a wretched old sot. 
Only a beggar. He used to stand, 
Day by day, with his hat in his hand. 
Asking for pence from the grave and the gay, 
And getting them, too, I am glad to say, 
Not in abundance, but just enough 
For a little bread, and more of the stuff 
That went to nourish his curious nose 
And keep it blooming, a full-blown rose. 
" Life," he said, " for the rich or poor, 
Means but the same— endure, endure ! 
Troubles to poor and rich befall, 
But the bottle," he said, "is a friend to all." 

Now that you know the old reprobate, 
Beggar, dishonest, inebiiate, 
All that he asks, sir, of you or me 
Is a little measure of charity. 

For twenty years he had been the same, 

Till at last the usual period came 

"When age began to assert itself, 

And threatened to lay him upon the shelf, 

And parties said in that part of the town, 

That the poor old sinner was breaking down, 

When all at once he seemed to be 

Displaying a greater activity — 

Begging with more than his usual vim, 

And, what was entirely new for him, 

Picking up jobs, and inquiring, too, 

For any work he could find to do. 

People said it was strange, if true, 

When they heard a rumor to that effect — 

A change impossible to expect. 

It seemed, you perceive, anomalous 

That Flick should be turning industrious. 



112 DADDY FLICK'S SPREE. 

But so it was ; if you'll listen well, 
The bottom facts of the case I'll tell. 



Flick, for seventy years to date, 

Had never thought to be bothering fate ; 

Had been contented to barely live, 

Caring for nothing the world can give— 

A sort of philosopher, as I think, 

In seeking for naught but his meat and drink ; 

But, mind you, never a notion had he 

Of any claim to philosophy. 

The greatest and wisest have one soft streak, 
And so at the last Flick showed up weak. 
He said to himself on a certain day, 
" Daddy Flick, you are old and gray, 
Likely to drop off any day. 
Before your coffin is lowered down, 
Or, what is worse, you go on the town, 
Ton ought to have, as it seems to me, 
One good old-fashioned, expensive spree." 

Alas, I fear that my readers all 

Are disappointed at such a fall. 

I wish he had felt a higher call, 

Something of nobler and healthier tone — 

An aspiration with more backbone. 

But I told you before that the poor old rat 

Had never a virtue beneath his hat. 

(I must tell my stories as they befall ; 

If you don't like 'em don't read 'em, that's all.) 

After a couple of months had passed 
Daddy Flick had at length amassed 
A sum sufficient, he thought, to see 
His way to that same old-fashioned spree. 
And so, one night as he paddled home, 
He said to himself that the time had come 
And, cackling over an ancient song, 
He jingled his cash as he went along. 



DADDY FLICK'S SPREE. 113 

"What -were his assets ¥ A marvelous sum ; 
Enough to purchase unlimited rum — 
(Listen, you who collect your rents !) 
About a dollar and fifty cents. 

Passing along by a vacant lot 

(The name of the street I have clean forgot), 

A very diminutive boy he spied, 

Slouching a very tall fence beside : 

A lonesome figure, so woe-begone, 

So desolate-looking and haggard and wan, 

That even Flick in his callous heart 

Felt a movement of pity start. 

Ragged he was, and exceedingly small, 

"With garments that covered him, that was all ; 

A cap remarkable after its kind, 

"With front dismantled and baggy behind ; 

Shoes too big by about a mile, 

But gaping wide with a frightful smile, 

As though they laughed at the tiny feet 

That dragged such a burden along the street. 

He stood there listless and weary and worn, 

Hands in his pockets, alone and forlorn ; 

His features stained with the dirty streaks 

Of the tears that had dried on his little cheeks. 

Flick was none of your tender sort ; 

Philanthropy never had been his forte ; 

But the look of the child was so woefully sad 

That he stopped and spoke to the little lad, 

And got the stoiy I'll tell to you, 

Since it only requires a line or two : 

His mother had died in a drunken fit, 

He was hungry, and that was the whole of it. 

Flick, as you know, was all primed for a spree ; 
All the same he said, " Come with me!" 
And took the child to his narrow den, 
And fed him and kept him that night, and then, 
To cut it short, he put up the tin 



114 THE BALLAD OP BABIE BELL. 

He had labored so long and so hard to -win, 
And started the boy in the paper trade, 
"Where he prospered well, and a living made. 

Then Flick returned to his ancient ways, 

And loafed and begged through the listless days; 

Cracking, by way of amusing folk, 

An occasional rummy and senile joke ; 

But what is the funniest thing to me, 

He always thought he had had that spree, 

And bragged about it to every one 

That for once in his life he had had some fan. 



THE BALLAD OF BABIE BELL. 

T. B. ALDEICH. 

Have you not heard the poets tell 
How came the dainty Babie Bell 

Into this world of ours ? 
The gates of heaven were left ajar ; 
"With folded hands and dreamy eyes, 
"Wandering out of Paradise, 
She saw this planet, like a star, 

Hung in the glistening depths of even- 
Its bridges running to and fro, 
O'er which the white- winged angels go, 

Bearing the holy dead to heaven. 
She touched a bridge of flowers— those feet, 
So light they did not bend the bells 
Of the celestial asphodels ! 
They fell like dew upon the flowers, 
Then all the air grew strangely sweet — 
And thus came dainty Babie Bell 

Into this world of ours. 
She came and brought delicious May. 

The swallows built beneath the eaves ; 

Like sunlight in and out the leaves, 



THE BALLAD OF BABIE BELL. 115 

The robins went the livelong day ; 

The lily swung its noiseless bell, 

And o'er the porch the trembling vine 
Seemed bursting with its veins of wine. 

How sweetly, softly, twilight fell ! 

Oh, earth was full of singing-birds, 

And opening spring-tide flowers, 

"When the dainty JBabie Bell 

Came to this world of ours ! 

Babie, dainty Babie Bell, 
How fair she grew from day to day ! 
"What woman-nature filled her eyes, 
What poetry within them lay ! 
Those deep and tender twilight eyes, 

So full of meaning, pure and bright, 

As if she yet stood in the light 
Of those ope ; d gates of Paradise. 
And so we loved her more and more ; 
Ah, never in our hearts before 

"Was love so lovely born : 
"We felt we had a link between 
This real world and that unseen — 

The land beyond the morn. 
And for the love of those dear eyes, 
For love of her whom God led forth 
(The mother's being ceased on earth 
"When Babie came from Paradise) — 
For love of Him who smote our lives, 

And woke the chords of joy and pain, 
"We said, Dear Christ ! — our hearts bent down 

Like violets after ram. 

And now the orchards, which were white 
And red with blossoms when she came, 
"Were rich in autumn's mellow prime. 
The clustered apples burnt like flame, 
The soft-cheeked peaches blushed and fell, 
The ivory chestnut burst its shell, 
The grapes hung purpling in the grange ; 



116 THE BALLAD OF BABIE BELL. 

And time wrought just as rich a change 

In little Babie Bell. 
Her lissome iorm more perfect grew, 

And in her features we could trace, 

In softened curves, her mother's face ! 
Her angel-nature ripened too. 
We thought her lovely when she came, 
But she was holy, saintly now— 
Around her pale, angelic brow 
"We saw a slender riug of flame. 
God's hand had taken away the seal 

That held the portals of her speech ; 
And oft she said a few strange words 

Whose meaning lay beyond our reach. 
She never was a child to us, 
We never held her being's key, 
We could not teach her holy thmgs ; 

She was Christ's self in purity. 

It came upon us by degrees ; 

We saw its shadow ere it fell, 

The knowledge that our G-od had sent 

His messenger for Babie Bell. 

We shuddered with unlanguaged pain, 

And all our hopes were changed to fears, 

And all our thoughts ran into tears 

Like sunshine into ram. 
We cried aloud in our belief, 
"Oh, smite us gently, gently, God! 
Teach us to bend and kiss the rod, 
And perfect grow through grief." 
Ah, how we loved her, God can tell ; 
Her heart was folded deep m ours, 

Our hearts are broken, Babie Bell ! 

At last he came, the messenger, 

The messenger from unseen lands : 
And what did dainty Babie Bell? 
She only crossed her little hands, 
She only looked more meek and fan* ! 



AUX ITALIENS. 117 

We parted back her silken hair, 
"We wove the roses round her brow — 
"White buds, the summer's drifted snow — 
Wrapt her from head to foot in flowers ; 
And then went dainty Babie Bell 
Out of this world of ours ! 



AUX ITALIENS. 



OWEN MEREDITH. 



AT THE ITALIAN OPERA. 

At Paris it was, at the Opera there ; 

And she looked like a queen in a book, that night, 
With the wreath of pearl in her raven hair, 

And the brooch on her breast, so bright. 

Of all the operas that Yerdi wrote, 
The best, to my taste, is the Trovatore ; 

And Mario can soothe with a tenor note 
The souls in purgatory. 

The moon on the tower slept soft as snow ; 

And who was not thrilled in the strangest way, 
As we heard him sing, while the gas burned low, 

u Non ti scordar di me f 

The Emperor there, in his box of state, 
Looked grave, as if he had just then seen 

The red flag wave from the city- gate, 
Where his eagles in bronze had been. 

The Empress, too, had a tear in her eye. 

You'd have .-said that her fancy had gone back again, 
For one moment, under the old blue sky, 

To the old glad hie in Spam. 

Well ! there in our front-row box we sat 

Together, my bride- betrothed and I ; 
My gaze was fixed on my opera-hat, 

And hers on the stage hard by. 



118 AUX ITALIENS. 

Aud both were silent, and both were sad. 

Like a queen, she leaned on her full white arm, 
"With that regal, indolent air she had ; 

So confident of her charm ! 

I have not a doubt she was thinking then 
Of her former lord, good soul that he was ! 

"Who died the richest and roundest of men, 
The Marquis of Carabas. 

I hope that, to get to the kingdom of heaven, 
Through a needle's eye he had not to pass ; 

I wish him well for the jointure given 
To my lady of Carabas. 

Meanwhile I was thinking of my first love, 
As I had not been thinking of aught for years, 

Till over my eyes there began to move 
Something that felt like tears. 

I thought of the dress that she wore last time, 
When we stood, 'neath the cypress-trees, together, 

In that lost land, in that soft clime, 
In the crimson evening weather ; 

Of that muslin dress (for the eve was hot), 
And her warm white neck in its golden chain. 

And her full, soft hair, just tied in a knot, 
And falling loose again; 

And the jasmin-flower in her fair young breast ; 

Oh, the faint, sweet smell of that jasmin-flower, 
And the one bird singing alone to his nest, 

And the one star over the tower. 

I thought of our little quarrels and strife, 
And the letter that brought me back my ring, 

And it all seemed then, in the waste of life, 
Such a very little thing ! 

For I thought of her grave below the hill, 
"Which the sentinel cypress-tree stands over. 

And I thought .... "were she only living still, 
How I could forgive her and love her !" 



AUX IT ALIENS. lliJ 

And I swear, as I thought of her thus, in that hour, 
And of how, after all, old things were best, 

That I smelt the smell of that jasmin-flower, 
"Which she used to wear in her breast. 

It smelt so faint, and it smelt so sweet, 

It made me creep, and it made me cold ! 
Like the scent that steals from the crumbling sheet 

When a mummy is half unrolled. 

And I turned and looked. She was sitting there 

In a dim box, over the stage ; and drest 
In that muslin dress, with that full soft hair, 

And that jasmin in her breast ! 

I was here, and she was there, 

And the glittering horseshoe curved between — 
From my bride-betrothed, with her raven hair, 

And her sumptuous, scornful mien. 

To my early love, with her eyes downcast, 

And over her primrose face the shade 
(In short, from the Future back to the Past), 

There was but one step to be made. 

To my early love from my future bride 
One moment I looked. Then I stole to the door, 

I traversed the passage ; and down at her side 
I was sitting, a moment more. 

My thinking of her, or the music's strain, 
Or something which never will be exprest, 

Had brought her back from the grave again, 
With the jasmin in her breast. 

She is not dead, and she is not wed ! 

But she loves me now, and she loved me then ! 
And the very first word that her sweet lips said, 

My heart grew youthful again. 

The Marchioness there, of Oarabas, 
She is wealthy, and young, and handsome still, 

And but for her well, we'll let that pass- 
She may marry whomever she will. 



120 BBEITMABTN IN MARYLAND. 

But I will many my own first love, 
With her primrose face ; for old things are best, 

And the flower in her bosom, I prize it above 
The brooch in my lady's breast. 

The world is filled with folly and sin, 
And Love mnst cling where it can, I say ; 

For Beauty is easy enough to win, 
But one isn't loved every day. 

And I think, in the lives of most women and men, 
There's a moment when all would go smooth and even, 

If only the dead could find out when 
To come back and be forgiven. 

But oh, the smell of that jasmin-flower ! 
And oh, that music ! and oh, the way 
That voice rang out from the donjon tower, 

Non ti scordar di me, 

Non ti scordar di me / 



BREITMANN IN MARYLAND. 

Der Breitmann mit his gompany 

Rode out in Marylandt. 
" Dere's nichts to trink in dis countrie ; 

Mine troat's as dry as fand. 
It's light canteen und haversack, 

It's hoonger mixed mit doorst; 
Und if we had some lager-bier 

I'd trink oontil I boorst. 
Gling, glang, gloria! 

"We'd trink oontil we boorst. 

" Herr Leut'nant, take a dozen men, 

Und ride dis land around ! 
Herr Feldwebel, go foragin' 

Dill somedings goot is found. 
Gotts-doonder ! men, go ploonder ! 

We hafn't trinked a bit 



BItEITMANN IN MARYLAND. 121 

Dis fonrdeen hours ! If I had bier 
I'd sauf oontil I shplit ! 
Gling, glang, gloria ! 
"We'd sauf ooutil we shplit !" 

At mittemacht a horse's hoofs 

Coom rattlin' troo de camp ; 
" Kouse dere ! — cooui rouse der house dere ! 

Herr Copitaiu— we moost tromp ! 
De scouds have found a repel town, 

Mit repel davern near, 
A repel keller in de cround, 

Mit repel lager bier ! 
Gling, glang, gloria! 

All fool of lager bier ! 
Gottsdonnerkreuzschockschwerenoth! 

How Breitmann broked de bush ! 
" let me see dat lager bier ! 

let me at him rash ! 
TJnd is mein sabre sharp uud true, 

Und is mein war-horse goot ? 
To get one quart of lager bier 

I'd shpill a sea of ploot. 
Gling, glang, gloria ! 

I'd shpill a sea of ploot. 
" Fuenf hoonderd repels hold de down, 

One hunderd strong are we ; 
Who gares a tarn for all de odds 

When men so dirsty pe ?" 
And in dey smashed and down dey crashed, 

Like donder-polts dey fly, 
Rush fort as der wild yeeger cooms 

Mit blitzen troo de shky. 
Gling, glang, gloria ! 

Like blitzen troo de shky. 

How flewed to rite, how flewed to left 

De moundains, drees unt hedge ; 
How left und rite de yseger corps 

"Went donderin troo de pridge. 



122 BREITMANN IX MARYLAND. 

Und splash und splosh dey ford dc shtream 
Where not some pridges pe : 

All dripplin' in de moondlight peam 
Stracks went de cavallrie ! 

Gling, glang, gloria! 
Der Breitmann's cavallrie ! 

Und hoory, hoory on dey rote, 

Oonheedin' vet or try ; 
Und horse und rider shnort und blowed, 

Und shparklin' bepples fly. 
Eopp ! ropp ! I shmell de barley-prew ! 

Dere's somedings goot ish near. 
Eopp ! Eopp !— I scent de kneiperei ; 

We've got to lager bier ! 
Gling, glang, gloria ! 

We've got to lager bier ! 

Hei ! how de carpine pullets klinged 

Oopon de helmets hart ! 
Oh, Breitmann— how dy sabre ringed ; 

Du alter Knasterbart ! 
De contrapands dey sing for choy 

To see de rebs go down, 
Und hear der Breitmann grimly gry : 

Hoorah ! — we've dook de down. 
Gling, glang, gloria ! 
Victoria, victoria! 

De Dootch have dook de down. 

Mid shout and crash and sabre flash, 

And wild husaren shout, 
De Dootchmen boorst de keller in, 

Und rolled de lager out ; 
And in the coorlin powder shmoke, 

While shtill de pullets sung, 
Bere shtood der Breitmann, axe in hand, 

A-knockin' out de boong. 
Gling, glang, gloria ! 
Victoria! Encoria! 

De shpicket beats de boong. 



" MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. U3 

Gotts ! vot a shpree der Breitmann had 

While yet his hand was red, 
A-trinkin' lager from his poots 

Among de repel tead. 
'Twas dus dey went at mitternight 

Along der moundain side ; 
'Twas dns dey help make history ! 
Dis was der Breitmann's ride. 
Gling, glang, gloria ; 
Victoria ! Yictoria ! 
Cer'visia, encoria? 
De treadful mitnight ride 
Of Breitmann's wild Freischarlinger, 
All famous, broad, und wide. 



"THE MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPART- 

AliiiJN L . MAX ADELER. 

A rather unusual sensation has been excited in the vil- 
lage by The Morning Argus within a day or two; and 
while most of the readers of that wonderful sheet have 
thus been supplied with amusement, the soul of the editor 
has been filled with gloom and wrath and despair. Colonel 
Bangs recently determined to engage an assistant to take 
the place made vacant by the retirement of the eminent 
art-critic, Mr. Murphy, and he found in one of the lower 
counties of the State a person who appeared to him to be 
suitable. The name of the new man is Slimmer. 

When Mr. Slimmer arrived, and entered upon the per- 
formance of his duties, Colonel Bangs explained his theory 
to the poet, and suggested that whenever a death-notice 
reached the office, he should immediately write a rhyme or 
two which should express the sentiments most suitable to 
the occasion. 

Mr. Slimmer had charge of the editorial department the 
next day, during the absence of Colonel Bangs in Wilming- 
ton. Throughout the afternoon and evening death-notices 



lX>4 u MORNING AKGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. 

arrived ; and when one would reach Mr. Slhnmer's desk, 
he would lock the door, place the tinge rs of his left hand 
among his hair, and agonize until he succeeded in com- 
pleting a verse that seemed to him to accord with his in- 
structions. 

The next morning Mr. Slimmer proceeded calmly to the 
office for the purpose of embalming in sympathetic verse 
the memories of other departed ones. As he came near to 
the establishment he observed a crowd of people in front 
of it, struggling to get into the door. Ascending some 
steps upon the other side of the street, he overlooked the 
crowd, and could see within the office the clerks selling 
papers as fast as they could handle them, while the mob 
pushed and yelled in frantic efforts to obtain copies, the 
presses in the cellar meanwhile clanging furiously. Stand- 
ing upon the curbstone in front of the office, there was a 
long row of men, each of whom was engaged in reading 
The Morning Argus, with an earnestness that Mr. Slim- 
mer had never before seen displayed by the patrons of 
that sheet. The bard concluded that either his poetry 
had touched a sympathetic chord in the popular heart, or 
that an appalling disaster had occurred in some quarter of 
the globe. 

He went round to the back of the office and ascended to 
the editorial rooms. As he approached the sanctum, loud 
voices were heard within. Mr. Slimmer determined to 
ascertain the cause before entering. He obtained a chair, 
and placing it by the side door, he mounted it and peeped 
over the door through the transom. There sat Colonel 
Bangs, holding The Morning Argus in both hands, while 
the fringe which grew in a semi-circle around the edge of 
his bald head stood straight out, until he seemed to resem- 
ble a gigantic gun-swab. Two or three persons stood in 
front of him in threatening attitudes. Slimmer heard one 
of them say : 

"My name is McGlue, sir! William McGlue! lama 






u MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. 125 

brother of the late Alexander McGlue. I picked up your 
paper this morning, and perceived in it an outrageous insult 
to my deceased relative, and I have come around to demand, 
sir, what you mean by the following infamous language : 
" ' The death-angel smote Alexander McGlue, 

And gave him protracted repose ; 
He wore a checked shirt and a number nine shoe, 

And he had a pink wart on his nose. 
No doubt he is happier dwelling in space, 

Over there on the evergreen shore. 
His Mends are informed that his funeral takes place 
Precisely at quarter past four.' 

" This is simply diabolical ! My late brother had no 
wart on his nose, sir. He had upon his nose neither a 
pink wart nor a green wart, nor a cream-colored wart, nor 
a wart of any other color. It is a slander ! It is a gratu- 
itous insult to my family, and I distinctly want you to say 
what do you mean by such conduct V } 

11 Really, sir,-'' said Bangs, " it is a mistake. This is the 
horrible work of a miscreant in whom I reposed perfect 
confidence. He shall be punished by my own hand for 
this outrage. A pink wart ! Awful ! sir— awful ! The 
miserable scoundrel shall suffer for this — he shall, indeed !" 

" How could I know," murmured Mr. Slimmer, to the 
foreman, who with him was listening, " that the corpse 
hadn't a pink wart? I used to know a man named 
McGlue, and he had one, and I thought all the McGlues 
had. This comes of irregularities in families." 

" And who," said another man, addressing the editor, 
authorized you to print this hideous stuff about my de- 
ceased son ? Do you mean to say, Baugs, that it is not 
with your authority that your low comedian inserted with 
my advertisement the following scandalous burlesque? 
Listen to this : 

u ' "Willie had a purple monkey climbing on a yellow stick, 
And when he sucked the paint all off it made him deathly sick ; 



126 " MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. 

And in his latest hours he clasped that monkey in his hand, 
And bade good-bye to earth and went into a better land. 

" ' Oh, no more he'll shoot his sister with his little wooden gun ; 
And no more he'll twist the pussy's tail and make her yowl, for fun. 
The pussy's tail now stands out straight ; the gun is laid aside ; 
The monkey doesn't jump around since little Willie died.' 

" The atrocious character of this libel will appear when 
I say that rny son was twenty years old, and that he died 
of liver complaint." 

" Infamous ! utterly infamous !" groaned the editor, as 
he cast his eyes over the lines. " And the wretch who 
did this still remains unpunished ! It is too much !" 

"And yet," whispered Slimmer to the foreman, "he 
told me to lighten the gloom and to cheer the afflicted 
family with the resources of my art; and I certainly 
thought that idea about the monkey would have that effect, 
somehow. Bangs is ungrateful !" 

Just then there was a knock at the door, and a woman 
entered, crying. 

" Are you the editor?" she inquired of Colonel Bangs. 

Bangs said he was. 

"W-w-well!" she said in a voice broken by sobs, 
" wh-what d'you mean by publishing this kind of poetry 
about my child ? M-my name is Sm-Smith ; and wh-when 
Hooked this m-morning for the notice of Johnny's d-death 
in your paper, I saw this scandalous verse : 

•' ' Four doctors tackled Johnny Smith — 

They blistered and they bled him ; 
With squills and anti -bilious pills 

And ipecac they fed him. 
They stirred him up with calomel, 

And tried to move his liver ; 
But all in vain — his little soul 

Was wafted o'er the Kiver.' 

"It's false! false! and mean! Johnny only had one 



" MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. 127 

doctor. And they d-didn't bl-bleed and bl-blister liim. 
It's a wicked falsehood, and you're a hard-hearted brute 
f-f-for printing it !" 

" Madam, I shall go crazy !" exclaimed Bangs. " This 
is not my work. It is the work of a villain whom I will 
slay with my own hand as soon as he comes in. Madam, 
the miserable outcast shall die !" 

" Strange! strange!" said Slimmer. "And this man 
told me to combine elevated sentiment with practical in- 
formation. If the information concerning the squills and 
ipecac is not practical, I have misunderstood the use of 
that word. And if young Smith didn't have four doctors, 
it was an outrage. He ought to have had them, and they 
ought to have excited his liver. Thus it is that human 
life is sacrificed to carelessness." 

While the poet mused, hurried steps were heard upon 
the stairs, and in a moment a middle-aged man dashed in 
abruptly, and seizing the colonel's scattered hair, bumped 
his prostrate head against the table three or four times 
with considerable force. Having expended the violence 
of his emotion in this manner, he held the editor's head 
down with one hand, shaking it occasionally by way of 
emphasis, and with the other hand seized the paper and 
said: 

u You disgraceful old reprobate ! Tou disgusting vam- 
pire ! You hoary-headed old ghoul ! What d'you mean 
by putting such stuff as this in your paper about my de- 
ceased son? What d'you mean by printing such awful 
doggerel as this, you depraved and dissolute ink-slinger — 
you imbecile quill-driver, you ! 

" 'Oh ! bury Bartholomew out iu the woods, 

In a beautiful hole in the ground, 
Where the bumble-bees buzz and the woodpeckers sing, 

And the straddle-bugs tumble around ; 
So that, in winter, when the snow and the slush 

Have covered his last little bed, 



128 " MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. 

His brother Artemus can go out with Jane 
And visit the place with his sled.' 

" I'll teach you to talk about straddle -bugs ! FU instruct 
you about slush ! I'll enlighten your insane old intellect 
on the subject of singing woodpeckers ! What do you know 
about Jane and Artemus, you wretched buccaneer, you 
despicable butcher of the English language % Go out with 
a sled ! I'll carry you out in a hearse before I'm done 
with you, you deplorable lunatic !" 

At the end of every phrase the visitor gave the editor's 
head a fresh knock against the table. When the exercise 
was ended, Colonel Bangs explained and apologized in the 
humblest manner, promising at the same time to give his 
assailant a chance to flog Mr. Slimmer, who was expected 
to arrive in a few moments. 

" The treachery of this man," murmured the poet to the 
foreman, "is dreadful. Didn't he desire me to throw a 
glamour of poesy over commonplace details f But for that 
I should never have thought of alluding to woodpeckers 
and bugs, and other children of nature. The man objects 
to the remarks about the sled. Can the idiot know that it 
was necessary to have a rhyme for ' bed ' I Can he sup- 
pose that I could write poetry without rhymes ? The man 
is a lunatic ! He ought not to be at large !" 

The poet determined to leave before any more criticisms 
were made upon his performances. He jumped down from 
his chair and crept softly toward the back staircase. 

The story told by the foreman relates that Colonel Bangs 
at the same instant resolved to escape any further persecu- 
tion, and he moved off in the direction taken by the poet. 
The two met upon the landing, and the colonel was about 
to begin his quarrel with Slimmer, when an enraged old 
woman who had been groping her way up-stairs suddenly 
plunged her umbrella at Bangs, and held him in the cor- 
ner while she handed a copy of the Argus to Slimmer, and 
pointing to a certain stanza, asked him to read it aloud. 



" MORNING ARGUS" OBITUARY DEPARTMENT. 129 

He did so in a somewhat tremulous voice, and with 
frightened glances at the enraged colonel. The verse was 
as follows : 

"Little Alexander's dead; 

Jam him in a coffin ; 
Don't have as good a chance 

For a fun'ral often ; 
Rush his body right around 

To the cemetery ; 
Drop him in the sepulchre 

With his Uncle Jerry." 

The colonel's assailant accompanied the recitation with 
such energetic remarks as these : 

" Oh, you willin ! D'you hear that, you wretch ? What 
d'you mean by writin' of my grandson in that way ? Take 
that, you serpint ! Oh, you wiper, you ! tryin' to break a 
lone widder's heart with such seand'lus lies as them ! 
There, you willin ! I kemmere to hammer you well with 
this here umbreller, you owdacious wiper, you ! Take that, 
and that, you wile, indecent, disgustin' wagabone ! When 
you know well enough that Aleck never had no Uncle Jerry, 
and never had no uncle in no sepulchre anyhow, you wile 
wretch, you!" 

When Mr. Slimmer had concluded his portion of the en- 
tertainment, he left the colonel in the hands of the enemy 
arid fled. He has not been seen in New Castle since that 
day, and it is supposed that he has returned to Sussex 
county for the purpose of continuing in private his dalli- 
ance with the Muses. Colonel Bangs appears to have) 
abandoned the idea of establishing a department of obitu- 
ary poetry, and the Argus has resumed its accustomed as- 
pect of dreariness. 

It may fairly boast, however, that once during its 
career it has produced a profound impression upon the 
community. 



130 SNYDER'S NOSE. 



SNYDER'S NOSE. 

" OCR FAT CONTRIBUTOR." 

Snyder kept a "beer-saloon some years ago " over the 
Rhine.' 7 Snyder was a ponderous Teuton of very irascible 
temper — "sudden and quick in quarrel" — get mad in a 
minute. Nevertheless, his saloon was a great resort for 
" the hoys " — partly because of the excellence of his beer, 
and partly because they liked to chafe "old Snyder," as 
they called him ; for, although his bark was terrific, expe- 
rience had taught them thafrhe wouldn't bite. 

One day Snyder was missing ; and it was explained by 
his u frau," who "jerked" the beer that day, that he had 
" gone out fishing mit der poys." The next day one of the 
boys, who was particularly fond of u roasting " old Snyder, 
dropped in to get a glass of beer, and discovered Snyder's 
nose, which was a big one at any time, swollen and blis- 
tered by the sun, until it looked like a dead-ripe tomato. 

"Why, Snyder, what's the matter with your nose?" 
said the caller. 

" I peen out fishing mit der poys," replied Snyder, laying 
his finger tenderly against his proboscis : " the sun it pese 
hot like ash never vas, and I purns my nose. Nice nose, 
don't it V And Snyder viewed it with a look of comical 
sadness in the little mirror back of his bar. It entered at 
once into the head of the mischievous fellow in front of the 
bar to play a joke upon Snyder ; so he went out and col- 
lected half a dozen of his comrades, with whom he ar- 
ranged that they should drop in at the saloon one after 
another, and ask Snyder, " What's the matter with that 
nose V* to see how long he would stand it. The man who 
put up the job went in first with a companion, and seating 
themselves at a table called for beer. Snyder brought it 
to them j and the new-comer exclaimed as he saw him, 
" Snyder, what's the matter with your nose ?" 

" I yust dell your iVient here I peen out fishin' mit der 



SNYDEE'S NOSE. 131 

poys, unt de sun he purnt 'em — zwi lager — den cents — all 
right." 

Another hoy rushes in. " Halloo, hoys, you're ahead of 
me this time ; s'pose I'm in, though. Here, Snyder, "bring 
me a glass of lager and a pret — " (Appears to catch a 
sudden glimpse of Snyder's nose, looks wonderingly a mo- 
ment, and then hursts out laughing.) " Ha, ha, ha ! 
Why,. Snyder — ha, ha ! — what's the matter with that nose V 

Snyder, of course, can't see any fun in having a burnt 
nose, or having it laughed at; and he says, in a tone 
sternly emphatic — 

" I peen out fishin' mit der poys, unt de sun it yust as 
hot ash blazes, unt I purnt my nose ; dat ish all right." 

Another tormentor comes in, and insists on il setting 'em 
up " for the whole house. " Snyder," says he, " fill up the 
boys' glasses, and take a drink yourse — Ho, ho, ho, ho ! 
ha, ha, ha ! Snyder, wha — ha, ha ! what's the matter 
with that nose P 

Snyder's brow darkens with wrath by this time, and his 
voice grows deeper and sterner — 

" I peen out fishin' mit der poys on the Leedle Miami. 
De sun pese hot like ash — vel, I purn my pugle. Now, dat 
is more vot I don't got to say. Vot gind o' peseness f Dat 
ish all right ; I purn my own nose, don't it f " 

" Burn your nose— burn all the hair off your head, for 
what I care ; you needn't get mad about it." 

It was evident that Snyder wouldn't stand more than 
one more tweak at that nose ; for he was tramping about 
behind the bar, and growling like an exasperated old bear 
in his cage. Another one of his tormentors walks in. Some 
one sings out to him, " Have a glass of beer, Billy?" 

" Don't care about any beer," says Billy; " but, Snyder, 
you may give me one of your best ciga — Ha-a-a ! ha, ha, 
ha ! ho, ho, ho ! he, he, he ! ah-h-h-ha ! ha, ha, ha ! Why — 
why— Snyder— who — who— ha-ha ! ha ! what's the matter 
with that nose .?" 



132 MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 

Snyder was absolutely fearful to behold by this time ; 
his lace was purple with rage, all except his nose, which 
glowed like a ball of lire. Leaning his ponderous figure 
far over the bar, and raising his arm aloft to emphasize 
his words with it, he fairly roared— 

" I peen out fishin' mit ter poys. The sun it pese hot 
like ash never vas. I purnt my nose. Now you no like 
dose nose, you yust take dose nose unt wr-wr-wr- wring 
your mean American finger mit 'em ! That's the kind of 
man vot I am !" And Snyder was right. 



MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 

J. F. WALLER. 

[Note. — The approximately correct pronunciation of the Spanish names 
may be indicated, as follows : Sevilla, Seveelya ; Quien Sabe, Kee-en Sabe (a 
as in father); Caballero, Cavalyaro; Camillo, Cameelyo ; Miguel, Migale; 
Pedrillo, Pedreelyo ; Be Xymenes y Ribera, Da Zimancs e Eibara ; Y San- 
tallos y Herrera, E Santalyos e Herrara ; Guzman, Gwtbman ; Y de Hivas y 
Mendoza, E da Reevas e Mendotha ; Y Quintana y de Rosa, E Keentanya e 
de Rosas ; Y Zorilla, E Zoreellya.] 

Near the city of Sevilla, 
Tears and years ago — 

Dwelt a lady in a villa 
Years and years ago ; 
And her hair was black as night, 
And her eyes were starry bright ; 
Olives on her brow were blooming, 
Roses red her lips perfuming, 
And her step was light and airy 
As the tripping of a fairy ; 
'When she spoke, yon thought, each rnimite, 
'Twas the trilling of a linnet ; 
When she sang, you heard a gush 
Of full- voiced sweetness like a thrush 
.And she struck from the guitar 
Ringing music, sweeter far 
Than the morning breezes make 



OK THE SPANISH DUEL. 133 

Through the lime trees when they shake- 
Thau the oceau murmuriug o'er 
Pebbles ou the foamy shore. 
Orphaued both of sire and mother 
Dwelt she in that lonely villa, 
Absent now her guardian brother 

On a mission from Sevilla. 
Skills it little now the telling 

How I wooed that maiden fair, 
Tracked her to her lonely dwelling 
And obtained an entrance there. 
Ah ! that lady of the villa — 

And I loved her so, 
Near the city of Sevilla, 
Tears and years ago. 
Ay de mi ! — Like echoes falling 

Sweet and sad and low, 
Voices come at night, recalling 
Years and years ago. 

Once again I'm sitting near thee, 

Beautiful aud bright ; 
Once again I see and hear thee 

In the autumn night ; 
Once again I'm whispering to thee 

Faltering words of love ; 
Once again with song I woo thee 

In the orange grove 
Growing near that lonely villa 

"Where the waters flow 
Down to the city of Sevilla— 

Tears and years ago. 

'Twas an autumn eve ; the splendor 

Of the day was gone, 
And the twilight, soft and tender, 

Stole so gently on 
That the eye could scarce discover 
How the shadows, spreading over, 

Like a veil of silver gray, 



134 MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 

Toned the golden clouds, sun-painted, 
Till they paled, and paled, aud tainted 

From the face of heaven away. 
And a dim light, rising slowly, 

O'er the welkin spread, 
Till the blue sky, calm and holy, 

Gleamed above our head ; 
And the thin moon, newly nascent, 

Shone in glory meek and sweet, 
As Murillo paints her crescent 

Underneath Madonna's feet. 
And we sat outside the villa 

"Where the waters flow 
Down to the city of Sevilla — 

Years and years ago. 

There we sate— the mighty river 

"Wound its serpent course along 
Silent, dreamy Guadalquiver, 

Famed in many a song. 
Silver gleaming 'mid the plain 

Yellow with the golden grain, 
Gliding down through deep, rich meadow 

Where the sated cattle rove, 
Stealing underneath the shadows 

Of the verdant olive grove ; 
"With its plenitude of waters, 

Ever flowing calm and slow, 
Loved by Andalusia's daughters, 

Sung by poets long ago . 

Seated half within a bower 

"Where the languid evening breeze 

Shook out odors in a shower 

From oranges and citron trees, 

Sang she from a romancero, 

How a Moorish chieftain bold 

Fought a Spanish caballero 
By Sevilla's walls of old. 






MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 135 

How they battled for a lady, 

Fairest of the maids of Spain — 
How the Christian's lance, so steady, 

Pierced the Moslem through the brain. 

Then she ceased — her black eyes moving, . 

Flashed, as asked she with a smile, 
" Say, are maids as fair and loving — 

Men as faithful, in your isle ?" 

"British maids," I said, "are ever 

Counted fairest of the fair; 
Like the swans on yonder river 

Moving with a stately air. 

" Wooed not quickly, won not lightly — 

But, when won, forever true ; 
Trial draws the bend more tightly, 

Time can ne'er the knot undo." 

"And the men V — " Ah ! dearest lady, 
Are — quien sabe ? who can say ? 

To make love they're ever ready, 

Where they can and where they may ; 

"Fixed as waves, as breezes steady 

In a changeful April day — 
Como brisas, como rios, 

No se sabe, sabe Dios." 

" Are they faithful ?"— " Ah ! quien sabe ? 
Who can answer that they are ? 
While we may we should be happy." 

Then I took up her guitar, 
And I sang in sportive strain, 
This song to an old air of Spain. 
"Qtjten Sabe." 
I. 
"The breeze of the evening that cools the hot air, 
That kisses the orange and shakes out thy hair, 
Is its freshness less welcome, less sweet its perfume, 
That you know not the region from which it is come ? 



136 MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 

Whence the wind blows, where the wind goes, 
Hither and thither and whither — who knows? 

Who knows ? 
Hither and thither — hut whither — who knows ? 

II. 

" The river forever glides singing along, 

The rose on the bank bends down to its song ; 

And the flower, as it listens, unconsciously dips, 

Till the rising wave glistens and kisses its lips. 

But why the wave rises and kisses the rose, 

And why the rose stoops for those kisses — who knows % 

Who knows ? 
And away flows the river— but whither — who knows ? 

III. 

" Let me be the breeze, love, that wanders along 
The river that ever rejoices in song ; 
Be thou to my fancy the orange in bloom, 
The rose by the river that gives its perfurne. 
"Would the fruit be so golden, so fragrant the rose, 
If no breeze and no wave were to kiss them ? 

"Who knows ? 

"Who knows ? 
If no breeze and no wave were to Mss them ? 

"Who knows!" 

As I sang, the lady listened, 
Silent save one gentle sigh : 

"When I ceased, a tear-drop glistened 
On the dark fringe of her eye. 

Then my heart reproved the feeling 
Of that false and heartless strain 

"Which I sang in words concealing 
"What my heart would hide in vain. 

Up I sprang. "What words were uttered 
Bootless now to think or tell— 

Tongues speak wild when hearts are fluttered 
By the mighty master spell. 



MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 137 

Love, avowed with sudden boldness, 
Heard with flushings that reveal, 

Spite of woman's studied coldness, 
Thoughts the heart cannot conceal. 

"Words half- vague and passion-broken, 

Meaningless, yet meaning all 
That the lips have left unspoken, 

That we never may recall. 

"Magdalena, dearest, hear me/' 

Sighed I, as I seized her hand — 
"Hola ! Senor," very near me, 

Cries a voice of stern command. 

And a stalwart caballero 

Comes upon me with a stride, 
On his head a slouched sombrero, 

A toledo by his side. 

From his breast he flung his capa 

"With a stately Spanish air — 
[On the whole, he looked the chap a 

Man to slight would scarcely dare. ] 

"Will your worship have the goodness 

To release that lady's hand V 
" Senor," I replied, " this rudeness 

I am not prepared to stand. 

"Magdalena, say" — the maiden, 

"With a cry of wild surprise, 
As with secret sorrow laden, 

Fainting sank before my eyes. 

Then the Spanish caballero 

Bowed with haughty courtesy, 
Solemn as a tragic hero, 

And announced himself to me. 

' "Senor, I am Don Camillo 
Guzman Miguel Pedrillo 
De Xymenes y Eibera 
Y Santallos y Herrera 



138 MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 

T de Rivas y Mendoza 

Y Quintana y de Rosa 

Y Zorilla y " — " No more, sir, 
'Tis as good as twenty score, sir," 

Said I to him, with a frown ; 
" Mucha bulla para nada, 
No palabras, draw your 'spada; 
If you're up for a duello 
You will find I'm just your fellow — 

Senor, I am Peter Brown !" 

By the river's brink that night, 

Foot to foot in strife, 
Fought we in the dubious light 

A fight of death or life. 
Don Camillo slashed my shoulder, 
"With the pain I grew the bolder, 

Close, and closer still I pressed ; 
Fortune favored me at last, 
I broke his guard, my weapon passed 

Through the caballero's breast— 

Down to the earth went Don Camillo 
Guzman Miguel Pedrillo 
De Xymenes y Ribera 

Y Santallos y Hen-era 

Y de Rivas y Mendoza 

Y Quintana y de Rosa 

Y Zorilla y — One groan, 
And he lay motionless as stone. 

The man of many names went down, 
Pierced by the sword of Peter Brown ! 

Kneeling down, I raised his head; 
The cabellero faintly said, 
" Senor Ingles, fly from Spain 
With all speed, for you have slain 
A Spanish noble, Don Camillo 
Guzman Miguel Pedrillo 
De Xymenes y Ribera 

Y Santallos y Herrera 



MAGDALENA, OR THE SPANISH DUEL. 139 

T de Kivdfc y Mendoza 

Y Quintana y de Eosa 

T Zorilla y " — He swooned 

"With the bleeding from his wound. 

If he he living still, or dead, 

I never knew, I ne'er shall know. 
That night from Spain in haste I fled, 

Years and years ago. 

Oft when autumn eve is closing. 

Pensive, puffing a cigar, 
In my chamber lone reposing, 
Musing half, and half a-dozing, 

Comes a vision from afar 
Of that lady of the villa 
In her satin, fringed mantilla, 
And that haughty caballero 
"With his capa and sombrero, 
Yainly in my mind revolving 

That long, jointed, endless name ; — 
'Tis a riddle past my solving, 

"Who he was or whence he came. 
"Was he that brother home returned ? 
Was he some former lover spurned ? 
Or some family fiance 
That the lady did not fancy ? 
"Was he any one of those t 
Sabe Dios. Ah, God knows ! 

Sadly smoking my manilla, 

Much I long to know 
How fares the lady of the villa 

That once charmed me so, 
When I visited Sevilla 

Years and years ago. 
Has she married a Hidalgo ? 
Gone the way that ladies all go 
In those drowsy Spanish cities, 
"Wasting life — a thousand pities — 
"Waking up for a fiesta 



140 "bat billt." 

From an afternoon siestaf 
To " Giralda " now repairing, 
Or the Plaza for an airing ; 
At the shaded reja flirting, 
At a bnll fight now despoiling; 
Does she walk at evenings ever 
Through the gardens by the river ? 
Guarded by an old duenna 
Fierce and sharp as a hyena, 
With her goggles and her fan 
Warning off each wicked man? 
Is she dead or is she living ? 
Is she for my absence grieving ? 
Is she wretched, is she happy ? 
"Widow, wife, or maid % Quien sale f 



" BAY BILLY." 

FBANK H. GASSAWAT. 

'Twas the last fight at Fredericksburg— 

Perhaps the day you reck, 
Our boys, the Twenty-Second Maine, 

Kept Early's men in check. 
Just where Wade Hampton boomed away 

The fight went neck and neck. 

All day we held the weaker wing, 

And held it with a will ; 
Five several stubborn times we charged 

The battery on the hill, 
And five times beaten back, reformed, 

And kept our columns still. 

At last from out the centre fight 

Spurred up a General's Aid. 
" That battery must silenced be !" 

He cried, as past he sped. 
Our Colonel simply touched his cap, 

And then, with measured tread,, 



"BAY BILLY." 141 

To lead the crouching line once more 

The grand old fellow came. 
No wounded man but raised his head 

And strore to gasp his name, 
Aud those who could not speak nor stir, 

" God blessed him " just the same. 

For he was all the world to us, 

That hero gray and grim ; 
Eight well he knew that fearful slope 

TVe'd climb with none but him, 
Though while his white head led the way 

"We'd charge hell's portals in. 

This time we were not half way up, 

"When, midst the storm of shell, 
Our leader, with his sword upraised, 

Beneath our bay 'nets fell. 
And, as we bore" him back, the foe 

Set up a joyous yell. 

Our hearts went with him. Back we swept, 

And when the bugle said 
"Up, charge, again !" no man was there 

But hung his dogged head. 
" "We've no one left to lead us now," 

The sullen soldiers said. 

Just then, before the laggard line 

The Colonel's horse we spied — 
Bay Billy with his trappings on, 

His nostril swelling wide, 
As though still on his gallant back 

The master sat astride. 

Eight royally he took the place 

That was of old his wont, 
And with a neigh, that seemed to say 

Above the battle's brunt, 
" How can the Twenty-Second charge 

If I am not in front V* 



142 u BAY BILLY." 

Like statues wo stood rooted there, 

And gazed a little space ; 
Above that floating mane we missed 

The dear familiar face ; 
But we saw Bay Billy's eye of fire, 

And it gave us heart of grace. 

No bugle call could rouse us all 
As that brave sight had done ; 

Down all the battered line we felt 
A lightning impulse run ; 

Up, up the hill we followed Bill, 
And captured eveiy gun ! 

And when upon the conquered height 
Died out the battle's hum, 

Yainly 'mid living and the dead 
"We sought our leader dumb ; 

It seemed as if a spectie steed 
To win that day had come. 

At last the morning broke. The lark 

Sang in the merry sides 
As if to e'en the sleepers there 

It bade wake, and arise ! 
Though naught but that last trump of all 

Could ope their heavy eyes. 

And then once more, with banners gay, 
Stretched out the long brigade ; 

Trimly upon the furrowed field 
The troops stood on parade, 

And bravely 'mid the ranks were closed 
The gaps the fight had made. 

Not half the Twenty-Second's men 
Were in their place that morn, 

And Corp'ral Dick, who yester-noon 
Stood six brave fellows on, 

Now touched my elbow in the ranks, 
For all between were gone. 






KETTJEN OF THE HILLSIDE LEGION. 143 

All ! who forgets that dreary hour 

When, as with misty eyes, 
To call the old familiar roll 

The solemn Sergeant tries — 
One feels that thumping of the heart 

As no prompt voice replies. 

And as in falt'ring tone and slow 

The last few names were said, 
Across the field some missing horse 

Toiled up with weary tread. 
It caught the Sergeant's eye, and quick 

Bay Billy's name was read. 

Tes ! there the old bay hero stood, 

All safe from battle's harms, 
And ere an order could be heard, 

Or the bugle's quick alarms, 
Down all the front, from end to end, 

The troops presented arms ! 

Not all the shoulder-straps on earth 

Could still our mighty cheer. 
And ever from that famous day, 

When rang the roll-call clear, 
Bay Billy's name was read, and then 

The whole line answered "Here !" 



RETURtf OF THE HILLSIDE LEGION. 

ETHEL LYNN. 

What telegraphed word 

The village hath stirred ? 
Why eagerly gather the people ; 

And why do they wait 

At crossing and gate- 
Why flutters the flag on the steeple ? 

Why, stranger, do tell — 
It's now a smart spell 



144 RETURN OP THE HILLSIDE LEGION. 

Since our sogers went marchin' away, 

And we calculate now 

To show the boys how 
"We can welcome the Legion to-day. 

Bill Allendale's drum 

"Will sound when they come, 

And there's watchers above on the hill, 
To let us all know 
"When the big bugles blow, 

To hurrah with a hearty good will. 

All the women folks wait 

By the 'Cademy gate, 
"With posies all drippin' with dew ; 

The Legion shan't say 

"We helped them away, 
And forgot them when service was through. 

My Jack's comin' too, 

He's served the war through ; 

Hark, the rattle and roar of the train ! 
There's bugle and drum, 
Our sogers have come ! 

Hurrah ! for the boys home again. 

" Stand aside ! stand aside ! 

Leave a space far and wide 
Till the regiment forms on the track." 

Two soldiers in blue, 

Two men — only two 
Stepped off, and the Legion was back. 

The hurrah softly died 

In the space far and wide, 
As they welcomed the worn, weary men ; 

The drum on the hill 

Grew suddenly still, 
And the bugle was silent again. 

I asked Farmer Shore 
A question no more, 



CUDDLE DOON. 145 

For a sick soldier lay on his breast ! 

While his hand, hard and brown, 

Stroked tenderly down 
The locks of the weary at rest. 



CUDDLE DOON. 

ALEXANDER AJSDEE30N 

The baimies cnddle doon at nicht 

Wi' muckle faucht an' din. 
" Oh, try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues : 

Tour father's comhf in/' 
They never heed a word I speak. 

I try to gie a froon ; 
But aye I hap them up, an' cry, 

"Oh, baimies, cuddle doon !" 

"Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid — 

He aye sleeps next the wa' — 
Bangs up an' cries, " I want a piece " — 

The rascal starts them a\ 
I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks — 

They stop awee the soun' — 
Then draw the blankets up, and cry, 

"Noo, weanies, cuddle doon!" 

But ere five minutes gang, wee Eab 

Cries oot, frae 'neath the claes, 
" Mither, mak' Tarn gie ower at ance : 

He's kittlin' wi' his taes." 
The mischief's in that Tarn for tricks : 

He'd bother half the toon. 
But aye I hap them up, and cry, 

" Oh, bairnies cuddle doon !" 

At length they hear their father's fit ; 

An' as he steeks the door, 
They turn their faces te the wa', 

While Tarn nretends to snore. 



146 SHERIDAN'S HIDE. 

" Hae a' the weans been gude ?" he asks, 

As he pits all' his shoon. 
u The bairnies, John, are in their beds, 

An' lang since cnddled doon." 

An' just afore we bed oorsels, 

We look at oor wee lambs. 
Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, 

An' Rab his airm roun' Tarn's. 
I lift wee Jamie up the bed, 

An' as I straik each croon, 
I whisper, till my heart fills up, 

" Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon !" 

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht 

Wi' mirth that's dear to me ; 
But soon the big warl's cark an' care 

Will quaten doon their glee. 
Yet, come what will to ilka ane, 

May He who sits aboon 
Aye whisper, thougb their pows be bauld, 

" Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon !" 



SHERIDAN'S RIDE. 



THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. 

Up from the South at break of day, 
Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, 
The affrighted air with a shudder bore, 
Like a herald in haste to the chieftain's door, 
The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, 
Telling the battle was on once more, 
And Sheridan twenty miles away. 

And wider still those billows of war 
Thundered along the horizon's bar ; 
And louder yet into Winchester rolled 
The roar of that red sea uncontrolled, 
Making the blood of the listener cold, . 






SHERIDAN'S RIDE. 147 

As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, 
And Sheridan twenty miles away. 

But there is a road from Winchester town, 

A good broad highway leading down ; 

And there, through the flush of the morning light, 

A steed as black as the steeds of night 

"Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight 

As if he knew the terrible need ; 

He stretched away with his utmost speed ; 

Hills rose and fell ; but his heart was gay, 

With Sheridan fifteen miles away. 

Still sprang from those swift hoofs, thundering South, 
The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth; 
Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, 
Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster. 
The heart of the steed, and the heart of the master 
Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, 
Impatient to be where the battle-field calls ; 
Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, 
With Sheridan only ten miles away. 

Under his spurning feet, the road 

Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, 

And the landscape sped away behind 

Like an ocean flying before the wind, 

And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, 

Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire. 

But lo ! he is nearing his heart's desire ; 

He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring tray, 

With Sheridan only five miles away. 

The first that the General saw were the groups 

Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops ; 

What was done ? what to do ? a glance told him both ; 

Then striking his spurs, with a terrible oath 

He dashed down the line, 'mid a storm of huzzas, 

And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because 

The sight of the master compelled it to pause. 

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray ; 



148 THE POWER OF PKAYER. 

By the flash of his eye, and the red nostril's play, 
He seemed to the whole great army to say, 
" I have brought you Sheridan all the way 
From "Winchester, down to save the day." 

Hurrah ! hurrah for Sheridan ! 
Hurrah ! hurrah for horse and man ! 
And when their statues are placed on high 
Under the dome of the Union sky, 
The American soldiers' Temple of Fame, 
There with the glorious General's name 
Be it said in letters both bold and bright : 
" Here is the steed that saved the day 
By carrying Sheridan into the fight, 
From Winchester — twenty miles away I" 



THE POWER OF PRAYER: 

OR, THE FIRST STEAMBOAT UP THE ALABAMA. 

From cribner's Magazine. 

You, Dinah ! Come and set me whar de ribber-roads does meet. 
De Lord, He made dese black-jack roots to twis' into a seat. 
Umph, dar! De Lord have mussy on dis blin' ole nigger's feet. 

It 'pear to me dis momin' I kin smell de fust o' June. 

I 'clar', I b'lieve dat mocking-bird could play de fiddle soon ! 

Dem yonder town-bells sounds like dey was ringin' in de moon. 

Well, if dis nigger is been blind for fo'ty year or mo', 

Dese ears, dey sees the world, like, thV de cracks dat's in de do', 

For de Lord has built dis body wid de windows 'hind and 'fo'. 

I know my front ones is stopped up, and things is sort o' dim, 
But den, th'u' dem, temptation's rain won't leak in on ole Jim ! 
De back ones shows me earth enough, aldo' dey's mons'ous slim. 

And as for Hebben — blesa de Lord, and praise His holy name — 
Dat shines in all de co'ners of dis cabin jes' de same 
As ef dat cabin hadn't nar' a plank upon de frame ! 



THE POWER OF PRAYER. 149 

Who call me ? Listen down de ribber, Dinah ! Don't you hyar 
Somebody hollm' " lioo, Jim, hoo" ? My Sarah died las' y'ar ; 
Is dat blaek angel done come back to call ole Jim f oin hyar ? 

My stars, dat cain't be Sarah, shuh ! Jes' listen, Dinah, now ! 
"What kin be comin' up dat bend, a-makin' sich a row? 
Fus' bellerin' like a pawin' bull, den squealin' like a sow ? 

De Lord 'a' massy sakes alive, jes' hear — ker-woof, ker-woof— 
De Debbie's comin' round dat bend, he's comin', shuh enuff, 
A-splashin' up de water wid his tail and wid his hoof ! 

I'se pow'ful skeered ; but neversomeless, I ain't gwine run away ; 
I'm gwine to stand stiff-legged for de Lord dis blessed day. 
You screech, and howl, and swish de water, Satan ! Let us pray. 

hebbenly Mah'sr, what Thou wiliest, dat mus' be jes' so, 
An d ef Thou hast bespoke de word, some nigger's bound to go. 
Den, Lord, please take ole Jim, and lef young Dinah hyar below ! 

Scuse Dinah, scuse her, Mah'sr ; for she's sich a little chile, 
She hardly jes' begin to scramble up de home-yard stile, 
But dis ole traveler's feet been tired dis many a many a mile. 

I'se wufless as de rotten pole of las' year's fodder-stack. 

De rheumatiz done bit my bones ; you hear 'em crack and crack ? 

1 cain't sit down 'dout gruntin' like 'twas breakin' o' my back. 

What use de wheel, when hub and spokes is warped and split and 

rotten? 
What use dis dried-up cotton-stalk, when Life done picked my 

cotton ? 
I'se like a word dat somebody done said, and den forgotten. 

But, Dinah ! Shuh dat gal jes' like dis little hick'ry-tree, 

De sap's jes' risin' in her; she do grow owdaciouslee — 

Lord, ef you's cl'arin' de underbrush, don't cut her down, cut me ! 

I would not proud persume— but yet I'll boldly make reques' ; 
Sence Jacob had dat wrastlin'-match, I, too, gwine do my bes' ; 
When Jacob got all underholt, de Lord He answered Yes ! 

And what for waste de vittles, now, and th'ow away de bread, 
Jes' for to strength dese idle hands to scratch dis ole bald head ? 
T'ink of de 'conomy, Mah'sr, if dis ole Jim was dead ! 



150 TnE POWER OF THAYER. 

Stop ! ef I don't believe de Debbie's gone on up de stream ! 
Jes' now he squealed down dar — hush ! dat's a mighty weakly 

scream ! 
Tas, sir, he's gone, he's gone ! he snort 'way off, like in a dream ! 

glory hallelujah to de Lord dat reigns on high ! 

De Debbie's fa'ly skeered to def, he done gone flyin' by; 

1 know'd he couldn't stand dat pra'r, I felt my Mah'sr nigh ! 

Tou, Dinah ; ain't you 'shamed, now, dat you didn' trust to grace ? 
I heerd you thrashin' th'u' de bushes when he showed his face ! 
You fool, you think de Debbie couldn't beat you in a race ? 

I tell you, Dinah, jes' as sure as you is standin' dar, 

When folks starts prayin', answer-angels drops down th'u' de a'r. 

Yea, Dinah, wliar 'ouldyou be now, exceptm'for datjyra'rf 









DICK'S 

Recitations and Readings. 



A carefully compiled Series of Yolumes, uniform in size and 

style, which will include everything that is fresh and 

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CHARACTER SKETCHES, DIALECT PIECES, 

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PATHETIC, PATRIOTIC, 

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Recitations and Readings in Poetry and Prose, excluding every- 
thing that is not eminently appropriate, either 
for Declamation or Public Reading. 



Each Number contains about 180 Pages of Reading Matter, 
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HOWARD'S RECITATIONS. 

Comic, Serious and Pathetic. Being a carefully selected collec- 
tion of fresh Recitations in Prose and Poetry, suitable for An- 
niversaries, Exhibitions, Social Gatherings, and Evening Par- 
ties; affording, also, an abundance of excellent material for 
practice and declamation. Edited by Clarence J. Howard. 

/ v 
CONTENTS. 



Miss Malony on the Chinese Ques- 
tion. 

Kit Carson's Ride. A fine descrip- 
tive poetical recitation. 

Buck Fanshaw's Funeral. 

Knocked About. Monologue. 

The Puzzled Dutchman. Dialect 

Shamus O'Brien. Popular recitation 

The Naughty Little Girl. Humorous. 

The Bells of Shandon. Serious poem. 

No Sect in Heaven. A dream. 

Rory O'More's Present to the Priest. 

"Mother's Fool." A Recitation. 

Queen Elizabeth. A comic oration. 

The Starling. A recitation. 

Lord Dundreary's Riddle. 

The Stuttering Lass. Amusing re- 
cital. 

The Irish Traveler. Humorous piece. 

The Remedy as Bad as the Disease. 

A Subject for Dissection. 

The Heathen Chinee. 

Mona's Waters. Pathetic recitation. 

A Showman on the Wood chuck. 

How Happy 111 Be. Moral recitation. 

A Frenchman's Account of the Fall. 

Isabel's Grave. Pathetic recitation. 

The Parson and the Spaniel. 

An Irishman's Letter. 

An Affectionate Letter. Irish style. 

The Halibut in Love. 

The Merry Soap-Boiler. 

The Unbeliever. A solemn recitation 

The Voices at the Throne. 

Lord Dundreary Proposing. A very 
comic recitation. 

The Fireman. Descriptive piece. 

Paid Revere's Ride. 

Annie and Willie's Prayer. Pathetic 

A Frenchman on Macbeth. 

The New Church Organ. 

Katrina Likes Me Poody Veil. Hu 
morous Ditty in Dutch dialect. 

How to Save a Thousand Pounds. 

How I Got Invited to Dinner. 

Patient Joe. A seiious recitation. 

Jimmy Butler and the Owl. 



The Menagerie. A wild beast show. 

Old Quizzle. 

The Infidel and Quak er. Recitation. 

The Lawyer and the Chimney- 
Sweeper. 

Bill Mason's Bride. A railroad yam. 

Judging by Appearances. 

The Death's Head ; or. Honesty the 
best Policy. 

Betsey and I are Out. 

Betsey Destroys the Paper. 

Father Blake's* Collection. 

Blank Verse in Rhyme. 

Roguery Taught by Confession. 

Banty Tim. 

Antony and Cleopatra. 

Deacon Hezekiah. Description of 9 
Sanctimonious Hypocrite. 

The Frenchman and the Landlord. 

The Family Quarrel. A dialogue on 
the Sixteenth Amendment. 

The Guess. Old English Recitation. 

The Atheist and Acorn. 

Brother Watkins Farewell of a 
Southern Miuister. 

Hans in a Fix. A Dutchman's dream 
of Matrimony. 

To-Morrow. Poetical recitation. 

The Highgate Butcher. 

The Lucky Call. The Lost Spectacles. 

Challenging the Foreman. 

The Country Schoolmaster. 

The Matrimonial Bugs and the Trav- 
elers. 

Peter Sorghum in Love. Yankee 
story. 

Tim Tuff. A sharp bargain. 

The Romance of Kick Van Stann- 

The Debating Society. Recitation. 

Deacon Stokes. 

A Tribute to our Honored Dead. 

The Dying Soldier. Pathetic poetry. 

The Yankee Fireside. Yankee 
sketches of character. 

The Suicidal Cat. An affecting tale. 

The Son'o Wish. A dying father's 
bequest. 



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BEECHER'S RECITATIONS 

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READINGS. 
Humorous, Serious, Dramatic, including Prose and Poetical 
Selections in Dutch, French, Yankee, Irish, Backwoods, Negro 
and other Dialects. Edited by Alvah C. Beeeher. This excel- 
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Public Readers of the present time. It includes, also, choice 
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CONTE 

Miss Maloney goes to the Dentist. 

Lost and Found. Pathetic. 

Mygel Snyder's Barty. 

Magdalena ; or, the Spanish Duel. 

Jim Wolfe and the Cats. 

The Woolen Doll. A Maniac's Story. 

The Charity Dinner. A Character- 
istic Reading. 

Go-Morrow : or, Lot's Wife. [Negro 
Conversation on Religion. 

The Wind and the Moon. Eecitation. 

Dyin' Words of Isaac. 

Maude Mutter in Dutch. 

Moses the Sassy ; or, the Disguised 
Duke. Burlesque stvle. 

The Yarn of the " Nancy Bell." 

Paddy the Piper. Irish Narrative. 

Schneider sees " Leah." 

Caldwell of Springfield. A Story. 

Artemus Ward's Panorama. 

Sorrowful Tale of a Servant Girl. 

How a Frenchman Entertained John 
Bull. 

Tiamondts on der Prain. 

King Bobert of Sicily. A Dream. 

Gloverson the Mormon. 

De PintwidOle Pete. Negro Dialect. 

Pat and the Pior. An Irish Storv. 

The Widow Bedott's Letter to Elder 
Sniffles. Characteristic. 

The Cry of the Children. 

The Dutchman and the Small-pox. 

Sculpin. A Yankee Anecdote. 

Eats. Descriptive Eecitation. 

An Introduction. A Eeader Intro- 
duces Himself to an Audience. 

A Dutchman's Dolly Yarden. 

"Bock of Ages." A Beautifid Poem. 

Feeding the^Black Fillies. Irish. 

The Hornet. Its Manners and Cus 
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The Glove and the Lions. 

I Yant to Fly. 

That Dos: of Jim Smilev's. 

The Story of the Faithful Soul. 

' ' My New Pittayatecs." Character- 
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Mary Ann's Wedding. 

An inquiring Yankee. 

The Three Bells. Story of a Ship 
wreck. 

Love in a Balloon. 

Mrs. Brown on the State of the 
Streets. 

Shoo Flies. "Excelsior" in Dutch. 

Discourse by the Eev. Mr. Bosan. 

Without the Children. Pathetic. 

Signor Ettlsmethi's Dancing Acad- 
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Der Goot Lookin Shnow. Parody. 

The Celebrated Jumping Frog. 

The Lost Chord. A Memory of the 
Past. 

The Tale of a Leg. An Amusing 
Storv. 

That West-side Dog. 

How Dennis Took the Pledge. 

The Fisherman's Summons, rathetio 

Badger's Debut as Hamlet. 

How" Hezekiah Stole the Spoons. 

Paddy's Dream. 

Victuals and Drink. 

How Jake Schneider Went Blind. 

Aurelia's Unfortunate Young Man. 

Mrs. Brown on Modern Houses. 

Farm Yard Song. Country Scene. 

Murphy's Pork Barrel Mystery. 

The Prayer Seeker. Pathetic Poem. 

An Extraordinary Phenomenon. 

The Case of Young Bangs. 

A Mule Eide in Florida. 

Dhree Shkaders. A Dutch Ditty. 

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chorus and appropriate speeches for nineteen boys and girls, including 
nearly forty additional speeches for young and very small children. 

It introduces the May-Pole Dance, plainly described in every detail, and 
forming a very attractive and pleasing exhibition. 

Besides the above, it contains the following Dialogues and Recitations, for 
two, three or more boys and girls of various ages : 



Salutatory 

Salutatory 

Opening Song 

Opening Recitation 

An Interrupted Kecitation 

An Imaginative Invention. . . . 

Speech 

A Joyful Surprise 

An Oration 

How He Had Him 

The Old Maid 

The Old Bachelor 

Poetrv, Prose and Pact 

The Dumb Wife 

To Inconsistent Husbands 

Small Pitchers have Large 

Ears 

Sour Grapes 

Not Worth While to Hate . . . 
A Strike Among the Mowers. 

A Witty Retort 

The Young Critic 

"They Say" 

Speech 

" Angels Can Do No More.".. 

Recitation 

Dialogue 

Holiday Speech 

The Love-Scrape 

An Old Ballad 

The Milkmaid 

Billy Grimes, the Drover 

Grandmother's Beau 

Speech 

Honesty the Best Policy 



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Balance Due 

Recitation 

The Coming Woman 

Speech 

The Power of Temper 

Truth and Falsehood 

Recitation 

Recitation 

Recitation 

Christmas Forty Tears Ago. 

Speech 

Trving Hard 

The School-Boy 

Recitation 

"I Told You So" 

Speech 

Speech 

Speech 

Choosing a Name 

Baby Bye 

Dialogue 

Little Puss 

Poor Men vs. Rich Men 

Helping Papa and Mamma... 

Annabel's First Parry 

The Spendthrift Doll 

The Little Mushrooms 

Valedictory 

Riding in the Cars 

Riding in the Cars 

Speech 

The Cobbler's Secret 

Dialogue 

Valedictory 



The whole embraces a hundred 
pieces, from which selections can 
girls of from two to sixteen years 



and twenty-three easy and very effective 
be made to suit the capacities of boys and 
of age. 



16mo, illuminated paper cover. Price 30 ots. 

" Boards = 50 ets. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
WILSON'S BOOK OF RECITATIONS 



DIALOGUES. 

With instructions in Elocution and Declamation. Containing a 
choice selection of Poetical and Prose Recitations. Designed 
as au Assistant to Teachers and Students in preparing Exhibi- 
tions. By Eloyd B. Wilson, Professor of Elocution. 
COXTEXTS. 



Instruction rx Elocution and Dfx- 

LAMATION. 

Dedication of Gettysburg Cemetery. 

Sheridan's Kide. 

There's but oue Pair of Stockings. 

Modulation. 

The Drummer Boy's Burial. 

John Mavnard, the Pilot. 

The Bovs\ 

The Duel. 

Loehiel's Warning. 

Socrates Snooks. 

Mosaic Poetry. 

Burial of the Champion of Ids Class 

at Yale College. 
Scott and the Veteran. 
Barbara Erietchie. 
I Wouldn't— Would You » 
The Professor Puzzled. 
Thanatopsis. 
The Two Roads. 
The Pawnbroker's Shop. 
The Sophomore's Soliloquy. 
The Nation's Hymn. 
Address to a Skeleton. 
A Glass of Cold Water. 
Little Gretchen ; or. Xew Year's Eve. 
Good Xews from Ghent. 
The Sea Captain's Story. 
Our Heroes. 
The Closinsr Year. 
Burial of Little Nell. 
The Picket Guard. 
The Poor Man and the Eiend. 
Our Country's Call. 
The Conquered Banner. 
The High Tide; or, The Brides of 

Enderby. 
Death of Gaudentis. 
Don Garzia. 
Past Meridian 
The Founding of Gettysburg Monu 

ment. 
Spartacus to the Gladiators. 
Soliloquy of the Dying Alchemist. 
The Country Justice. 
Unjust National Acquisition. 

Paper covers. Price 

Bound in l>oards, cloth back 



Dimes and Dollars. 

The Dead Drummer Boy. 

Home. 

Responsibility of American Citizens. 

The Jester's "Sermon. 

Left on the Battle Eield. 

The American Flag. 

Oh ! Why should the Spirit of Mortal 
be Proud ? 

Parrhasius. 

The Vagabonds. 

A Bridal Wine Cup. 

Blanche of Devan's Last Words. 

Widow Bedott to Elder Sniffles. 

A Psalm of the Union. 

Charge of a Dutch Magistrate. 

Stars in my Country's bky. 

Bingen on the Rhine. 

Religions Character of President Lin- 
coln. 

The Raven. 

The Loyal Legion. 

Agnes and the Years. 

Cataline's Defiance. 

Our Folks. 

The Beautiful Snow. 

The Ambitious Youth. 

The Flag of Washington. 

The Abbot of Waltham. 

Ode to an Infant Son. 

The Scholar's Mission. 

Claude Melnotte's Apology. 

The Forging of the Anchor. 

The Wreck of the Hesperus. 

The Man of Ross. 

No Work the Hardest Work. ' 

What is Time \ 

Brntus's Oration over the Body of 
Lncretia. 

What is That, Mother ? 

A Colloquy with Myself. 

St. Philip Xeri and'the Youth. 

The Chameleon. 

Henry the Fourth's Soliloquy on 
Sleep. 

On Procrastination. 

Appendix. 

30cts. 

50 cts 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
BARTON'S COMIC RECITATIONS 



HUMOROUS DIALOGUES. 

Containing a variety of Comic Recitations in Prose and Poetry, 
Amusing Dialogues, Burlesque Scenes, Eccentric Orations, 
Humorous Interludes and Laughable Farces. Designed for 
School Commencements and Amateur Theatricals. Edited by 
Jerome Barton. 

CONTEXTS. 



The Stage-Struck Hero. A Ranting 

Poetical Recitation. 
Here She Goes — and There She Goes. 
Pastor M'Knock's Address against 

the Sin of Tippling. 
Old Sugar's Courtship. 
The Bachelor's Reasons for Taking a 

"Wife. A Poetical Recitation. 
The Spanish Valet and the "Waiting 

Maid. Dialogue for 1 male and 1 

female. 
The Jackdaw of Rheims. Recitation. 
Jonathan and the Englishman. 
Artemus Ward's Trip to Europe. 

Very Humorous Recitation. 
The Auctioneer and the Lawyer. 
Mr. and Mrs. Skinner. 
The Bachelor and the Bride. 
The Drunkard and his Wife. 
A "Western Lawyer's Plea against 

the Fact. 
Reading a Tragedy. Declamation. 
Cast-off Garments. An Extract from 

" Nothing to Wear." 
How to Cure a Cough. 
The Soldier's Return. Etlnopian 

Dialogue for 2 males. 
The Countrymen and the Ass. An 

excellent Fable! 
Come and Go. Poetical Recitation. 
How they Pop the Question. Reci- 
tation for Mimicry. 
The Clever Idiot. Poetical. 
The Knights; or, Botia Right and 

Both Wrong. An Excellent Fable. 
How the Lawyer got a Patron Saint. 
Josh Billings on Laughing. 
The Night after Christmas. 
A Change of System. A Parlor 

Comedy for 2 males and 1 female. 
The Citizen and the Thieves. 
Boggs's Dogs. A Profitable Trade. 
The Smack in School. 



The Tinker and the Miller's Daughter 

An Original Parody. Recitation. 

The Parsons and' the Corkscrew. 
Humorous Recitation. 

The Old Gentleman who Married a 
Young "Wife. Dialogue for 1 male 
and I female. 

The Stage-Struck Darkey. Ethiopian 
Interlude for males. 

Goody Grim versus Lapstone. Dia- 
logue for 4 males. 

The Woman of Mind. Recitation. 

Nursery Reminiscences. 

A Martyr to Science: or, "Wanted — 
A Confederate. Farce for 4 males. 

Lodgings for Single Gentlemen. 

The Farmer and the Counsellor. 

The Pugilists. A Striking Tale. 

How Pat Saved his Bacon. Charac- 
teristic Narrative. 

The Irish Drummer. A Story of the 
Lash. 

Mike Hooter's Bear Story. A Dia- 
lect Recitation. 

The Critic. Humorous Recitation. 

Mr. Caudle "Wants a Latch-key. 

Humbugging a Tourist. Character 
Dialogue for 3 males. 

The Widow's Victim. Ethiopian In- 
terlude for 2 males and 1 female. 

Josh Billings on the Mule. 

The Tinker and the Glazier. 

"Wonderful Dream. Negro Dialogue 
for 2 males. 

An Occasional Address. For a Lady's 
First Appearance. 

An Occasional Prologue. For Open- 
ing a Performance. 

Address on Closing a Performance. 

A Prologue for a Performance by 
Boys. 

An Epilogue for a School Perform- 
ance. 



This is one of the best collection of Humorous Pieces especially adapted to 
the Parlor Stage that has ever been published. 16 mo. 180 pages. 

Paper covers. Price 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back..... 50 CtS. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 



SPENCEB'S BOOK OF COMIC SPEECHES 

AND 

HUMOROUS RECITATIONS. 

A collection of Comic Speeches and Dialogues, Humorous Prose 
and Poetical Recitations, Laughable Dramatic Scenes and Bur- 
lesques, and Eccentric Characteristic Soliloquies and Stories. 
Suitable for School Exhibitions and Evening Entertainments. 
Edited by Albert J. Spencer. 



CONT 

The Yankee Landlord. 

His Eye was Stern and "Wild. 

The Goddess of Slang. Comic. 

Dick, the Apothecary's Apprentice. 

Courting in French Hollow. Dialect 
Recital. 

The Case Altered. 

The Fox and the Ranger. Dialect 
Dialogue for 2 males. 

The Declaration. 

The Warrantee Deed. Comic Song 
or Recitation ; with Chorus. 

A Night's Adventure. Thrilling. 

Julia Comic Love Scene. 

Saying not Meaning. Humorous. 

16.000 Years Ago. Negro Burlesque 
for 3 males. 

The Nimmers. Degrees of Crime. 

Gucom and the Back-log. 

"Widow Bedott's Mistake. Dialogue 
for 1 male and 1 female. 

Categorical Courtship. How a Bash- 
fid Lover " popped the Question." 

Mr. Artemus Ward crossing Dixie. 

My Last Shirt. Pathetic Rhap- 

sodv. 

The Three Black Crows. 

The Barber's Shop. For 2 males. 

Paddv O'Rafther. Irish Dialect. 

Decidedly Cool. Scene for 2 males 
and 1 female. 

The Frenchman and the Rats. 

The Jester Condemned to Death. • 

Kindred Quacks. Physic and Divi- 
nity. . , , 

Hans Breitmann's Party. Dialect. 

The Generous Frenchman. Dialect. 

Saint Jonathan. A Poem of to-day. 

Stump speech. Highfalutin' Style. 

The Rival Lodgers. Farce for 2 
males and 1 female. 

The Frenchman and the Mosquitoes. 

The Maiden's Mishap. , 

The Removal. An Amusing Recital. 

Talking Latin. Characteristic. 

Pravin'g for Rain. 



Paper covers. Price 

Bound in boards, cloth back. 



NTS. 

The Darkey Photograplwr. Negro 
scene for 3 males. 

Paddy and his Musket. Funny. 

Hezekiah Bedott. Gossipy Style. 

Hncle Reuben's Tale. 

Mr. Caudle has been to Greenwich 
Fair. 

The Chemist and his Love. 

The Disgusted Dutchman. Dialect 
Dialogue for 3 males. 

The Frightened Traveler. An Ad- 
venture. 

Economy. The Jewess and her Son. 

Clerical Wit. True Lies. 

The School House. Descriptive Piece. 

Daniel versus Dish clout. 

Spectacles, or Helps to Read. 

The Pig. Colloquial Poem in praise 
of this much despised animal. 

A Stray PaiTot. Farce for 1 male 
and 2 females. 

Dame Fredegonde. A Priest's advice. 

Toby Tosspot. Convivial Adventure. 

Courtship and Matrimony. 

Rings and Seals. Poetical. 

The" Biter Bit. A Wail of the For- 
saken. 

Pat and the Gridiron. Amusing 
Dialect Recitation. 

The Barmecide's Feast. Burlesque 
for 5 males, with directions. 

The Country Pedagogue. Descrip- 
tive Sketch after Nature. 

The Middle-aged Man and Two Wid- 
ows. 

The Saratoga Waiter. Funny Negro 
Scene for 2 males. 

The Wrangling Pair. A Monologue. 

A Connubial Eclogue. Poetical 
Dialogue for I male and 1 female. 

The Italian from Cork. Scene in a 
Justice's Court, for 3 males. 

Gasper Schnapps' Exploit. A Brag- 
gart's Boast. 

Epilogue. Suitable for conclusion of 
an Entertainment. 

30 cts. 

50 ets. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
BRUDDER BONES' BOOK OF STUMP SPEECHES 



BURLESOUE ORATIONS. 

Also containing Humorous Lectures, Ethiopian Dialogues, Plan- 
tation Scenes, Negro Farces and Burlesques, Laughable inter- 
ludes and Comic liecitations. Compiled and edited by John P. 
Scott. 

CONTENTS. 



If I may so Speak. Burlesque Ora- 
tion. 

Dr. Pillsbury's Lecture on Politics. 

Vegetable Poetry. Dialogue for 2 
males. 

Teco Brag's Lecture on Astronomy. 

We saw Her but a Moment. 

Stocks Up, Stocks Down. Darkey 
dialogue for 2 males. 

Brudder Bones' Love Scrapes. 

Stump Speech; or. "Any other Man." 

Wars your Hoss. Dialogue Recital. 

Geology. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Tin-pan-o-ni-on. Pantomime for 
Leader and Orchestra. 

Dr. Puff Stuffs Lecture on Patent 
Medicines. 

Sailing. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Challenge Dance. Ethiopian Act for 
3 males. 

Lecture on Bad Boys. An amusing 
Recitation. 

Tony Pastor's Great Union Speech. 

A Tough Boarding House. Conver- 
sation between 2 Darkeys. 

Sleeping Child. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Ain't I Right, Eh ? Speech. 

Wonderful Egg. Darkey Dialogue 
for 2 males. 

A Bootblack's Soliloquy. Darkey. 

Lecture to a Fire Company. 

Julius' Peaches. Dialogue for 2 Dar- 
keys. 

De Trouble Begins at Nine. 

The Arkansas Traveler. Dialogue 
for 2 Violin players. 

Slap Jack. Dialogue for 2 Darkeys. 

Demi-Semi-Centennial Turkey -town 
Celebration. An Oration. 

Uncle Steve's Stump Speech. 

A Midnight Murder. Thrilling. 

Dat's What's de Matter. 

The Freezing Bed Feller. Recitation. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins. 

Paddy Fagan's Pedigree. 

The Rival Darkeys. "Act for 2 males. 

Hans Sourcrout. on Signs and Omens. 

Hun-ki-do-ris Fourth of July Oration. 

16 mo. 188 pages. Paper covers. P: 

Bound in boards, illuminated: 



Josh Billings on Mosquitoes. 

Romantic History ol'Cap. John Smith. 

A Speech on Women. Humorous. 

An Impulsive Peroration. 

The Bet. Dialogue for 2 Darkeys. 

Old Times gone By. Dialogue with 
songs tor 2 Darkeys. 

The Echo. Act for 2 Negroes. 

Sol Slocum's Bugle. Dialect. 

Western Stump Speech. Highfalutin'. 

In the Show Business. Short Dia- 
logue for 2 males. 

" We are." Favorite Stump Oration. 

An Original Burlesque Oration. 

Waiting to see Him off. For 2 males. 

Patriotic Stump Speech. 

De Railroad Accident. Dialogue for 
2 Darkeys. 

The Dutchman's Lecture on the War. 

Professor Un worth's Atlantic Cable 
Lecture. 

The Three old Ladies. Recitation. 

Josh Billings' Lecture onto Musick. 

The Misfortunes of Brudder Bones' 
Lady- Love. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Deaf— lu a Horn. Act for 2 males. 

Or any oder Man's Dog. A Speech. 

Happy Uncle Tom. Plantation Scene. 

Stick 'a Pin dere. Brudder Horace. 

Burlesque Lecture on Woman's 
Rights. 

Dat's wot de "Ledger" says. Dia- 
logue for two Darkeys. 

Goose Hollow Stump Speech. 

De Milk in de Cocoa Nut. 

A Dutchman's Answer. 

Lecture on Cats. Humorous. 

The Patent Screw; or, How to be Re- 
venged. 

The Auctioneer. Characteristic. 

Hints on Courtship. To Young Men. 

A Dutch Recruiting Oflicer. 

Spirit Rappings. Roaring Darkey 
Dialogue for 2 males. 

Dar's de Money. From "Othello." 

Let Her Rip. Burlesque Lecture. 

The Stranger. Ethiopian Scene for 
1 male and 1 female. 

ice 30 cts. 

50 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
MARTINE'S DROLL DIALOGUES 



LAUGHABLE 

By Arthur Martine, author of 



RECITATIONS. 



Martme's Letter-Writer," etc., 
etc. A collection of Humorous Dialogues, Comic Recitations, 
Brilliant Burlesque, Spirited Stump Speeches and Ludicrous 
Farces, adapted for School and other Celebrations and for Home 
Amusement. 

CONTENTS. 



Hints to Amateur Performers in Par- 
lor Theatricals. 

Explanation of Stage Directions, 
with Diagram. 

Prelude to an Evening's Recitations. 
Humorous Poetical Address. 

The Bell and the Gong. Original 
Humorous Recitation. 

Mrs. Dove's Boarding House. Origi- 
nal Amusing Recitation. 

The Wilkins Family. A Recitation 
fall of Puns and Jokes. 

The Lawyer's Stratagem. How he 
tricked the Squire. 

Eulogy on Laughing. A well-known 
popular Recitation. 

Drawing a Long Bow. Dramatic 
Dialogue for 3 males and I female. 

"Woman. The Origin of Woman's 
Ascendency over Man. 

Veny Raynbr's Bear Story. A 
thrilling* characteristic narration. 

The Game of Life. The Moral Ap- 
plication of a game at Euchre. 

The Fortune Hunter. Laughable 
Dialogue for 2 males and 3 females. 

The Parson and the "Widow. A 
short, Poetical Recitation. 

Hezekiah Stabbins' Fourth of July 
Oration. A Yankee Stump Speech. 

Make your "Wills. Ludicrous Farce 
for 7 male characters. 

Mr. Rogers and Monsieur Denise. A 
celebrated Comic Recitation. 

The Darkey Debating Society. Ethi- 
opian Dialogue for 2 males. 

The Scandal Monger. Dramatic 
Dialogue for 2 males and 2 females. 

Poor Richard's Sayings. "With An- 
notations by Lord Dundreary. 

Prologue to " The Apprentice." 

Address in the character of " Hope." 
A Prologue for an Entertainment. 

Parody on the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. 



Bombastes Furioso. A Burlesque 

for 7 males. 
Characteristic Address. The wail 

of a Printer's Devil. 
Examining de Bumps. Ethiopian 

Dialogue for 2 males. 
Election Stump Speech. Addressed 

to the Electors of Wethersfield. 
A Matrimonial Tiff. Characteristic 

Dialogue for 1 male and 2 females. 
The Frenchman aud the Sheep's 

Trotters. Comic Recitation. 
The Poor Relation; or, Love Me, 

Love my Dog. Comic Drama for 

7 males. 
Vat you Please. Experiences of two 

Frenchmen in England. 
The Babes in the Wood. Burlesque 

for 3 males and 4 females. 
My Aunt. Poetical Recitation. 
Handy Andv's Little Mistakes. 

Laughable Irish Story. 
The Cat Eater. Comic Recitation. 
A Shocking Mistake. Dialog ae for 

3 males and 2 females. 
"Wanted a Governess. A satirically 

comic Recitation. 
The Rival Broom Makers. Comic 

Recitation. 
Pandeen O'Raffertv's Say- Voyage. 

Laughable Lish Recitation. 
Mr. Caudle's Wedding Dinner. A 

Curtain Lecture. 
Our Cousins. Negro Dialogue for 2 

male characters. 
Mr. Caudle has been made a Mason. 

Curtain Lecture. 
Address of Sergeant Buzfuz at the 

Trial of Pick wick. 
The Wonderful "Whalers. A very 

surprising narrative. 
Sam welter's Valentine. Character 

Dialogue for 2 males. 
Job Trotter's Secret. Amusing Dia- 
logue, for 3 : 



188 pages. Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth baok ..,..».,,.,,.,... .50 Cts. 



P opular Books Sent Free of Postage at the Prices Annexed. 

Frost's Dialogues for Young Folks. A Collection of Origi- 
nal. Moral and Humorous Dialogues. Adapted to the use of School and 
Church Exhibitions, Family Gatherings and Juvenile Celebrations on nil 
Occasions. 13y S. A. Frost. 



Contents. 



Novel Rending 

The Bound Girl 

Writing- a Letter 

The Wonderful Scholar 

Slang 

The Language of Flowers .. 

The Morning Call 

The Spoiled Child 

The Little Travelers 

Little Things 

Generosity 

Country Cousins 

Wi a ning the Prize 

The Unfortunate Scholar... 

The Day of Misfortunes 

Jealousy 

The May Queen 

Temptation Resisted 

lfirao, Paper Covers. Price. 
Bound in Boards 



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Contents. 



A Place for Everything.... 

1 Want to be a Soldier 

Sell-Denial 

The Traveler 

Idleness the Mother of Evil. 

The French Lesson 

Civility Never Lost 

AVho Works the Hardest?.. 

The Everlasting Talker 

The Epicure 

True Charity 

Starting in Life 



I Didn't Mean Anything... 

Ambition 

Choosing a Trade 

The Schoolmaster Abroad. 

AVhite Lies 

The Hoyden 



R ■£ 



3 

1 
1 
4 
5 
ft 
7 
3 
1 

• 30 cts 

• 50 cts 



Frost's New Book of Dialogues. A series of entirely new ana 
original humorous Dialogues, specially adapted for performauce at School 
Anniversaries aud Exhibitions, or other Festivals and Celebrations of the 
Young Folks. 



Contents. 

Slang versus Dictionary 

Country or City 

Turning the Tables 

The Force of Imagination 

The Modern Robinson Crusoe 

The Threatened Visit 

The Dandy and the Boor 

Nature versus Education 

The British Lion and Ameri- 
can Hoosier 

Curing a Pedant 

Pursuit of Knowledge under 
Difficulties 

The Daily Governess 

The Army and Navy 

Economy is AVealth 



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Contents. g> 
« 

The Intelligence Office 4 

Cats 8 

Too Fine and Too Plain ' 

The Fourth of July Oration ... 5 

The Sewing Circle 

Fix 2 

The Yankee Aunt 2 

The "Walking Encyclopedia... . 5 

The Novel Readers 

The Model Farmer 2 

Buying a Sewing-Machine 4 

Sam Wellcr's Valentine 2 

The Hungry Traveler 2 

Deaf as a Post 1 

The Rehearsal 6 



These Dialogues are admirably adapted for home performance, as they re- 
quire no set scenery for their representation. By S. A. Frost. 180 pages, ] fimo. 

Paper covers. Price 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cta. 



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CHECKERS AND CHESS. 

Spayth's American Draught Player; or, The Theory and 

Practice of the Scientific Game of Checkers. Simplified and Illustrated 
with Practical Diagrams. Containing upwards of 1,700 Games and Posi- 
tions. By Heury Spayth. Sixth edition, with over three hundred Correc- 
tions andlmprovements. Containing: The Standard Laws of the Game — 
Pull instructions— Draught Board Numbered— Names of the Games, and 
how formed — The " Theory of the Move and its Changes" practicallv ex- 
plained and illustrated with Diagrams— Playing Tables for Draught Clubs— 
5f ew Systems of numbering the Board — Prefixing signs to the Variations — 
List of Draught Treatises and Publications chronologically arranged. 
Bound in cloth, gilt side and back S3. 00 

Spayth's Game of Draughts. By Henry Spayth. This book 

is designed as a supplement to the author's first work, "The American 
Draught Player"; but it is complete in itself. It contaius lucid instruction!) 
for beginners, laws of the game, diagrams, the 6core of 3£4 games, togei her 
with 34 novel, instructive and ingenious " critical positions. ,r 
Cloth, gilt back and side §1.50 

Spayth's Draughts or Checkers for Beginners. This trea- 
tise was written by Henry Spayth. the celebrated player, and is by far the 
most complete and instructive elementary work on Draughts ever published. 
It is profusely illustrated with diagrams of ingenious stratagems, curious 
positions and perplexing problems, and contaius a great variety of interest- 
ing and instructive Games, progressively arranged and clearlv explained 
with notes, so that the learner may easily comprehend them. Tftth the aid 
of this Manual a beginner may soon become a proficient in the game. 
Cloth, gilt side 75 cts. 

Scattergood's Game of Draughts, or Checkers, Simplified 

and Explained. "With practical Diagrams and Illustrations, together with a 
Checker-Board, numbered and printed in red. Containing the Eighteen 
Standard Games, with over iiUO of the best variations, selected from various 
authors, with some never before published. By D. Scattergood. 
Bound in cloth, with flexible covers 50 Cts. 

Marache's Manual of Chess. Containing a description of the 

Board and Pieces, Chess Notation, Technical Terms, with diagrams illus- 
trating them. Laws of the Game, Relative Value of Pieces. Preliminary 
Games for Beginners, Fifty Openings of Games, giving all the latest dis- 
coveries of Modem Masters, with the best games and copious notes. Twenty 
Endings of Games, showing easiest ways of effecting Checkmate. Thirty- 
six ingenious Diagram Problems, and sixteen curious Chess Stratagems, 
being one of the best Books for Beginners ever published. By N. Marache. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Bound ia cloth, gilt side 75 cts. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Box 3975. NEW YORK. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

""readings and recitationsT - 

Kavanaugfr's Juvenile Speaker. For very Little Boys 

and Girls. Containing short and easily-learned Speeches and Dialogues, 
expressly adapted tor School Celebrations. May-Day Festivals and other 
Children's Eniertaiuments. Embracing on« hundred and twenty-three ellec- 
tive pieces, rsy Mrs. Kussell Kavanuugh. llluuiiuated paper cover. 30 cts. 
Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Dick's Series of Eecitations and Readings, Nos. 1 to 7. Com- 
prising a carefully compiled selection of Humorous, Pathetic, Eloquent, 
Patriotic and Sentimental Pieces in Poetry and Prose, exclusively designed 
for Recitation or Heading. Edited by Win. li Dick. Each number or the 

Series contains about i8o pages, illun in ded paper cover, each 30 Cts. 

Bound in full cloth 50 C £a. 

Beecher's Excitations and Readings. Humorous, Serious, 

Dramatic, including Prose and Poetical Selections in Dutch, Yankee, Irish, 

Negro and other Dialects. J 80 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, clotk back 50 cts. 

Howard's Recitations. Comic, Serious and Pathetic. Being 
a collection of fresh Recitations in Prose and Poetry, suitable for Exhibi- 
tions and Evening Parties. 18u pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

Spencer's Book of Comic Speeches and Humorous Recita- 
tions. A collection of Comic Speeches, Humorous Prose and Poetical 
Recitations, Laughable Dramatic Scenes and Eccentric Dialect Stories. 

19 .' pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Wilson's Book of Recitations and Dialogues. Containing a 

choice selection of Poetical and Prose Recitations. Designed as an Assist- 
ant to Teachers and Students in preparing Exhibitions. 

188 pages, paper covers oO CuS. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

BaHon's Comie Recitations and Humorous Dialogues. A 

variety of Comic Recitations in Prose and Poetry, Eccentric Orations 

and Laughable Interludes. 1 80 pages, paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, with clotu back OU cts. 

Brudder Bones' Book of Stump Speeches and Burlesque 

Orations Also containing Humorous Lectures, Ethiopian Dialogues, 1 Tan- 
tS Scenes. Negro Farces and Burlesques, Laughable Interludes and 

Comic Recitations. 1 88 pages, paper covers ^O cts. 

Bound in boards, illuminated ou cis. 

Hartiue's Broil Dialogues and Laugrhable Recitations. A 

collection of Humorous Dialogues, Comic Recitations, Brilliant Burlesques 

and Spirited Stump Speeches. 1 88 pages, paper covers 60 Ctb. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back DU oto. 

WE WILL SEND A CATALOGUE containing a complete list 

of all me pieces in each of the above looks, to any person who 

will tend us their address. Send for one. 

DTCK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Bo* 29*3. MEW YORK, 



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DIALOGUE BOOKS. 

The Dialogues contained in these books are all entirely original; 
some of them being arranged for one sex only, and others for 
both sexes combined. They develop in a marked degree the ec- 
centricities and peculiarities of the various characters which are 
represented in them; and are specially adapted for School Ex- 
hibitions and other celebrations, which mainly depend upon the 
efforts of the young folks. 

McBride's Comic Dialogues. A collection of twenty- three 

Original Humorous Dialogues, especially designed for the display of Ama- 
teur dramatic talent, and introducing a variety of sentimental, sprightly, 
comic and genuine Yankee characters, and other ingeniously developed eccen- 
tricities. By H. Elliott McBride. 180 pages, illumiuated paper covers.. 30 cts. 
Bound in boards 50 Ct3. 

McBride's Ail Kinds of Dialogues. A collection of twenty- 
five Original, Humorous and Domestic Dialogues, introducing Yankee, 
Irish, Dutch and other characters. Excellently adapted for Amateur Per- 
formances. 180 pages, illuminated paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards 50 Cts. 

Holmes' Very Little Dialogues for Very Little Folks. Con- 
taining forty-seven Isew and Original Dialogues, with short and easy parts, 
almost entirely in words of one syllable, suited to the capacity and compre- 
hension of very young children. 'Paper covers c? cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Ct3. 

Frost's Dialogues for Young Folks. A collection of thirty- 
sis Original, Moral and Humorous Dialogues. Adapted for boys and girls 
between the ages often and fourteen years. By S. A. Frost. 

176 pages, paper covers SO cts. 

Bound in boards 50 ecs. 

Frost's New Book of Dialogues. Containing twenty-nine en- 
tirely Xew and Original Humorous Dialogues for boys and girls between the 

ages of twelve and fifteen years. 180 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

Frost's Humorous and Exhibition Dialogues. This is a col- 
lection of twenty-five Sprightly Original Dialogues, in Prose and Verse, in- 
tended to be spoken at School Exhibitions. 178 pages, paper covers. 30 cts. 
Bound iu boards 50 Ct3. 

WE WILL SEND A CATALOGUE free to any address, con- 
lain ing a list of all the Dialogues in each of the above books, 
together with the number of boys and girls required to perform 

Hi em. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Hoi ^1)75. NEW YORK. 



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' AMATEUR THEATRICALS. ' 

All the plays in the following excellent books are especially de- 
signed for Amateur performance. The majority of them are in 
one act and one scene, and may be represented in any moderate- 
sized parlor, without much preparation of costume or scenery. 

Burton's Amateur Actor. A complete guide to Private Theat- 
ricals; giving plain directions for arranging, decorating and lighting tho 
Stage; with rules and suggestions for mounting-, rehearsing and perform- 
ing all kiuds of Plays, Parlor Pantomimes and Shadow Pantomimes. Illus- 
trated with numerous engravings, and including a selection of original Plays, 

with Prologues, Epilogues, etc. 16mo, illuminated paper cover 30 ctS. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

Parlor Theatricals; or, Winter Evenings' Entertainment. 

Containing Acting; Proverbs, Dramatic Charades, Drawing- lioom Panto- 
mimes, a Musical Burlesque and an amusing Farce, with instructions for 

Amateurs. Illustrated with engravings. Paper covers 30 CtS. 

Bound iu boards, cloth back 50 CtS. 

Howard's Book of Drawing-Room Theatricals. A collec- 
tion of twelve short and amusing plays. Some of the plays are adapted for 

performers of one sex only. 1 86 pages, paper covers 30 CtS. 

Bound iu boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

Hudson's Private Theatricals. A collection of fourteen humor- 
ous plaj T s. Four of these plays are adapted for performance by males only, 

and three are for females. 180 pages, paper covers 30 CtS 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

Nugent's Burlesque and Musical Acting Charades. Con- 
taining ten Charades, nil in different styles, two of which are easy and effec- 
tive Comic Parlor Operas, with Music and Piano-forte Accompaniments. 

176 pages, paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bouudiu boards, cloth back 50 CtS. 

Frost's Dramatic Proverbs and Charades. Containing eleven 

Proverbs and fifteen Charades, some of which are for Dramatic Performance, 
and others arranged for Tableaux Vivants. 176 pages, paper covers. 30 cts. 
Bound iu boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

Frost's Parlor Acting Charades. These twelve excellent and 

original Charades are arranged as short parlor Comedies and Farces, full of 
brilliant repartee and amusing situations. 182 pages, paper covers. .30 cts. 
lllummuted boards 50 cts. 

Frost's Book of Tableaux and Shadow Pantomimes. A 

collection of Tableaux Vivants and Shadow Pantomimes, with stage in- 
structions for Costuming. Grouping, etc. 180 pages, paper covers.. 30 CtS. 
Bound iu boards, with cloth back 53 cts. 

Frost's Amateur Theatricals. A collection of eight original 

Slays ; all short, amnsinsr and new. 180 pages, paper covers 80 cts. 
ouud in boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

WE WILL SEND A CATALOGUE containing a complete list 
of all the pieces in each of the above books, together with the 
number of male and female characters in each play, to any per- 
son who will send u% their address. Send for one. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Box 3975. NKW YORK. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Trices annexed. 
Mrs. Partington's Carpet-Bag of Fun. A collection of over 

1,000 of the most Comical Stories, Amusing Adventures, Side-Splitting 
Jokes, Cheek-extending Poetry, Funny Conundrums, Queer Sayings ol 
Mrs. Partington, Heart-Pending Puns, Witty Pepartees, etc. The whole 
illustrated by about 150 comic wood-cuts. 
12mo, 300 pages, ornamented paper covers 75 Ct3. 

Harp of a Thousand Strings ; or, Laughter for a Life-tims. 

A book of nearly 400 pages ; bound in a handsome gilt cover ; crowded full 
of funny stories, besides being illustrated with over 200 comic engravings, 
by Darley, McLennan, Bellew, etc $i.oO 

Chips from Uncle Sam's Jack-Knife. Illustrated with over 

100 Comical Engravings, and comprising a collection of over 500 Laughable 
Stories, Funny Adventures, Comic Poetry, Queer Conundrums, Terrific 
Puns and Sentimental Sentences. Large octavo 25 Cts. 

Fox's Ethiopian Comicalities. Containing Strange Sayings, 

Eccentric Doings, Burlesque Speeches, Laughable Drolleries and Funny 
Stories, as recited by the celebrated Ethiopian Comedian 10 ct3. 

Ned Turner's Circus Joke Book. A collection of the best 

Jokes, Bon Mots, Pepartees, Gems of Wit and Funny Sayings and Doings 
of the celebrated Equestrian Clown and Ethiopian Comedian, ISTed Tur- 
ner 10 cts. 

Ned Turner's Black Jokes. A collection of Funny Stories, 

Jokes and Conundrums, interspersed with "Witty Sayings and Humorous 
Dialogues, as given by Ked Turner, the celebrated Ethiopian Delinea- 
tor 10 cts. 

Ned Turner's. Clown Joke Book. Containing the best Jokes 

and Gems of Wit, composed and delivered by the favorite Equestrian Clown, 
Ned Turner. Selected and arranged by G. E. G 10 cts. 

Charley White's Joke Book. Containing a full expose of all 

the most laughable Jokes. Witticisms, etc., as told by the celebrated 
Ethiopian Comedian, Charles White 10 cts. 

Black Wit and Darky Conversations. By Charles White. 

Containing a large collection of laughable Anecdotes, Jokes, Stories, Witti- 
cisms and Darky Conversations 10 cts. 

Yale College Scrapes ; or, How the Boys Go It at New 

Haven. This is a book of 114 pages, containing accounts of all the famous 
"Scrapes" and "Sprees" of which students of Old Tale have been 
guilty for the last quarter of a century 25 cts. 

Laughing Gas. An Encyclopedia of Wit, Wisdom and Wind. 

BySam Slick, Jr. Comically illustrated with 100 original and laughable 
Engravings, and nearly 500 side-extending Jokes .30 Cts. 

The Knapsack Full of Fun; or, 1,000 Rations of Laughter. 

Illustrated with over 100 comical engravings, and containing Jokes and 
Funny Stories. By Doesticks and other witty writers. Large quarto . .30 cts. 

The Comical Adventures of David Duffieks. Ulnstrated with 

over one hundred Funny Engravings. This is a book full of fun 25 cts. 

The Plate of Chowder. A Dish for Fanny Fellows. Appro- 
priately illustrated with 100 oomio engravings. 19mo, paper covers . . 25 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

The Young Debater and Chairman's Assistant. By an ex- 
Member of the Philadelphia Bar. Containing instructions how to Form 
and Conduct Societies ; how to Form and Conduct Clubs and other organ- 
ized Associations; Rules of Order for t lie Government of their Business and 
Debates ; how to Compose Resolutions, Reports and Petitions ; how to 
Organize and Manage Public Meetings, Celebrations, Dinners, Pic-Kics 
and Conventions ; Duties of the President and other Officers of a Club or 
Society, with Official Forms; Hints on Debate and Publio Speaking; 
Forms for Constitutions and By-Laws. To any one who desires to become 
familiar with the duties of an Officer or Committee-man in a Society or 
Association this work will be invaluable, as it contains the most minute in- 
structions in everything- that pertains to the routine of Society Business. 

152 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

How to Conduct a Debate. A Series of Complete Debates, 

Outlines of Debates and Questions for Discussion. In the complete de- 
bates, the questions for discussion are denned, the debate formally opened, 
an array of brdliunt arguments adduced on either side, and the debate closed 
according to parliamentary usages. The second part consists of questions 
for debate, -with heads of arguments, for and against, given in a condensed 
form, for the speakers to enlarge upon to suit their own fancy. In addition 
to these are a large collection of debatable questions. The authorities to 
be referred to for information being- given at the close of every debate 
throughout the work. By Frederic Rowton. 232 pages, 1 Gmo. 

Paper covers 50 CtS, 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

The Vegetable Garden. Containing thorough instructions for 

Sowing, Planting and Cultivating all kinds of Vegetables, with plain direc- 
tions for preparing, manuring and tilling the soil to suit each plant; includ- 
ing, also, a summary of the work to be done in a Vegetable Garden during 
each month of the year. This work embraces, in a condensed but thoroughly 
practical form, all the information that cither an amateur or a practical 
gardener can require in connection with the successful raising of Vegetables 
and Herbs. It also gives separate directions for the cultivation of some 
seventy different Vegetables,'' including all the varieties of esculents that 
form the ordinary stock of a kitchen garden or truck farm. By James Hogg. 

140 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Full cloth 50 cts. 

The Amateur Trapper and Trap-Maker's Guide. A com- 

Slete and carefully prepared treatise on the art of Trapping, Snaring and 
Tetting. This comprehensive work is embellished -with fifty engraved illus- 
trations ; and these, together with the clear explanations which accompany 
them, will enable anvbotly of moderate comprehension to make and set any 
of the traps described. It also gives the baits usually employed by the most 
successful Hunters and Trappers, and exposes their secret methods of 
attracting and catching animals, birds, etc., with scarcely a possibility of 

failure. Large lfimo, paper covers 50 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 cts. 

How to "Write a Composition. The use of this excellent hand- 
book will save the student the many hours of labor too often -wasted in trying 
to write a plain composition. It affords a perfect skeleton of one hundred 
and seventeen different subiects, with their headings or divisions clearly 
denned, and each heading filled in with the ideas which the subject sug- 
gests ; so that all the writer has to do, in order to produce a good composi- 
tion, is to enlarge on them to suit his taste and inclination. 

178 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 



Off-Hand Speeches on a Variety of 
Subjects. 

Miscellaneous Speeches. 

Toasts and Sentiments for Public and 
Private Entertainments. 

Preambles and Resolutions of Con- 
gratulation, Compliment and Con- 
dolence. 



Popular Book3 S9nt Free of Postage at the Price3 annexed. 

Barber's American Book of Ready-Made Speeches. Con- 
taining- 159 original examples of Humorous and Serious Speeches, suitable 
for every possible occasion where a speech may be called lor, together with 
appropriate replies to each. Including 

Presen tafion Speeches. 

Convivial Speeches. 

Festival Speeches. 

Addresses of Congratulation. 

Addresses of Welcome. 

Addresses of Compliment. 

Political Speeches. 

Dinner and Supper Speeches for Clubs 
etc. 

"With this boob any person mar prepare himself to make a neat little speech, 
or reply to one when called upon to do so. They are ail short, apprupria te 
and witty, and even ready speakers may profit by them. Paper . . . - 50 Ct3. 
Bound hi boards, cloth back <*> Ct3. 

Day's American Ready-Reckoner. By B. H. Day.. This 

Eeady-Reokoner is composed of Original Tables, which are positively cor- 
rect, having been revised, in the most careful manner. It is a book of 192 
pages, and embraces more matter than 500 pasres of any other Reckoner. It 
contains: Tables for Rapid Calculations of Aggregate Values, Wages, Sal- 
aries, Board, Interest Money, etc.; Tallies of Timber and Plank Measure- 
ment ; Tables of Board and Log Measurement, and a great variety of Tables 
and useful calculations whichit would be impossible to enumerate in an adver- 
tisement of this limited space. All the information in this valuable book is 
given in a simple manner, and is made so plain, that any person can use it 
at once without any previous study or loss of time. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

Bound in eloth, gilt back ♦ 75 Cts. 

The Art and Etiquette of Making Love. A Manual of Love, 

Courtship and Matrimony. It tells 

Hoio to cure bashfulness, How to break off an engagement, 

Jfoio to commence a courtship, How to act after an engagement, 

Ho vj to please a sweetheart or lover, How to act as bridesmaid or grooms' 

How to write a love-letter, man, 

Hoio to "■pop the question" How the etiquette of a wedding and the 

Hoio to act before and after aproposal t after reception should be observed,, 

How to accept or reject a proposal, 

And, in fact, how to fulfill every duty and meet every contingency con- 
nected with courtship and matrimony. 176 pages. Paper covers . ...30 ets. 
Bound in boards, cloth back , 50 Cts. 

Frank Converse's Complete Banjo Instructor Without a 

Master. Containing a choice collection of Banjo Solos and Hornpipes, Walk 
Arouuds, Reels and Jigs, Songs and Banjo Stories, progressively arranged 
and plainly explained, enabling the learner to become a proficient banjoist 
without the aid of a teacher. The necessary explanations accompany each 
tune, and are placed under the notes on each page, plainly showing the 
string required, the finger to be used for stopping it, the manner of striking, 
and the number of times it must be sounded. The Instructor is illustrated 
with diagrams and explanatory symbols. 100 pages. Bound in boards, 
cloth back 50 cts. 

Hard Words Made Easy. Rules for Pronunciation and Accent ; 
with instructions how to pronounce French, Italian, German, Spanish, and 
other foreign names 12 cts. 



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Rarey & Knowlson's Complete Horse Tamer and Farrier. 

A New and Improved Edition, containing: Mr. Rorey's Wholo Secret of 
Subduing- and Breaking Vicious Horses; id's Improved Plan of Managing 
Young (Jolts, and Breaking them to the Saddle, to Harness and the Sulky! 
Kales for Selecting a Good Horse, and for Feeding Horses. Also the Com- 
plete Farrier or Horse Doctor; being the result of fifty years' extensive 
practice of the author, John C. Kuowlson, during his life an English Farrier 
of high popularity; containing the latest discoveries in the cure of Spavin Il- 
lustrated with descriptive engravings. .Bound in boards, cloth back. 60 cts. 

How to Amuse an Evening Party. A Complete collection of 

Home Recreations. Profusely Illustrated with over Two Hundred fine 
wood-cuts, containing Bound Games and Forfeit Games, Parlor Magic and 
Curious Puzzles, Comic Diversions and Parlor Tricks, Scientific Recreations 
and Evening Amusements. A young man with this volume may render him- 
self the beau ideal of a delightful companion at every party, and win the 
hearts of all the ladies, by his powers of entertainment. JBbund in orna- 
mental paper covers 30 c i s 

Bound in boards, with cloth back ...".. 50 cts". 

Frost's Laws and By-Laws of American Society. A Com- 

Jlete Treatise on Etiquette. Containing plain and Reliable Directions for 
)eportmont in every Situation in Life, by S. A. Frost, author of "Frost s 
Letter- Writer," etc. This is a book of ready reference on the usages of So- 
ciety at all times and on all occasions, and also a reliable guide in the details 

of deportment and polite behavior. Paper covers 30 ct3. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back. 50 cts. 

Frost's Original Letter- Writer. A complete collection of Orig- 
inal Letters and Notes, upon every imaginable subject of Every-Day Life, 
with plain directions about everything connected with writing a letter. By 
S. A. Frost. To which is added a comprehensive Table of Synonyms, alone 
worth double the price asked for the book. We assure our readers that it. is 
the best collection of letters ever published in this country; they are m ritten 
in plain and natural language, and elegant in style without being high-flown. 
Bound in boards, cloth back, with illuminated sides 50 Cts. 

North's Book of Love-Letters. With directions how to write 

and when to use them, and 120 Specimen Letters, suitable for Lovers of any 
age and condition, and under all circumstances. Interspersed with the au- 
thor's comments thereon. The whole forming a convenient Hand-book of 
valuable information and counsel for the use of those who need friendly 
guidance and advice in matters of Love, Courtship and Marriage. By In- 

goldsby North. Bound in boards 50 cts. 

Bound in cloth 75 cts. 

How to Shine in Society; or, The Science of Conversation. 

Containing the principles, laws and general usages of polite society, includ- 
ing easily applied hints and directions for commencing and sustaining an 
Agreeable conversation, and for choosing topics appropriate to the time, 
place and company, thus affording immense assistance to the bashful and 
diffident. 16mo. Paper covers 25 Cts. 

The Poet's Companion. -A Dictionary of all Allowable Khymes 
in the English Language. This gives the Perfect, the Imperfect and Allow- 
able Rhymes, and will "enable you to ascertain to a certainty Avhether any 
word can be mated. It is invaluable to any one who desires to court the 
Muses, and is used by some of the best writers in the country 25 cts. 

Mind Your Stops. Punctuation made plain, and Composition 
simplified for Readers, Writers and Talkers 12 cts. 

Five Hundred French Phrases. A book giving all the French 

words and maxims in general use in writing the English language. . .12 cts. 



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Sut Lovlngood. Tarns spun by "A In at'ral Born Durn'd Fool." 
Warped and Wove for Public Wear, by George W. Harris. . Illustrated 
with eight line full pace engravings, from designs by Howard. It would be 
difficult, we think, to cram a larger amount of pungent humor into 300 
pa"-cs than will be found iu this really fuuuy book. The Preface and Ded- 
ication are models of sly simplicity, and the SJ4 Sketches which follow are 
among the best specimens of broad burlesque to which the genius of the 
ludicrous, for which the Southwest is so distinguished, has yet given birth. 
12mo, tinted paper, cloth, gilt edges • §1.5 J 

Uncle Josh's Trunkful of Fun. Containing a rich collection of 



Comical Stories, Cruel Sells, 

Side- Splitting Jokes, Humorous Poet- 
ry, 

Quaint Parodies, Burlesque Ser~ 
mons. 



New Conundrums, Mirth-Provoking 

Speeches, 
Curious Puzzles, Amusing Card 

Tricks, and 
Astonishing Peats of Parlor-Magic. 



This book is illustrated with nearly 200 funny engravings, and contains, in 
64 large octavo double-column pages, at least three times as much reading 
matter and real fun as any other book of the price 15 Ct3. 

The Strange and Wonderful Adventures of Bachelor 

Butteriy. Showing how his passion for Natural History completely 
eradicated the tender passion implanted in his breast— also detailing his 
Extraordinary Travels, both by sea and land— his Hair-breadth Escapes 
from fire and cold— his being come over by a Widow with nine small 
children— his wonderful Adventures with the Doctor and the Fiddler, and 
other Perils of a most extraordinary nature. The whole illustrated by about 
200 engravings 30 CtS, 

The Laughable Adventures of Messrs. Brown, Jones and 

Robinson. Showing where they went, and how they went, what they did, 
and how they did it. Here is a book which will make you split your sides 
laughing. It shows the comical adventures of three jolly young greenhorns, 
who went traveling, and got into all manner of scrapes and funny adven- 
tures. Illustrated with nearly 200 thrillingly-comic engravings. . . .".30 Cts. 

The Mishaps and Adventures of Obadiah Oldbuck. This 

humorous and curious book sets forth, with 188 comic drawings, the mis- 
fortunes which befell Mr. Oldbuck ; and also his five unsuccessful attempts 
to commit suicide — his hair-breadth escapes from fire, water and famine— 
his affection for his poor dog, etc. To look over this book will make you 
laugh, and you can't help it 30 cts. 

Jack Johnson's Jokes for the Jolly. a collection of Funny 

Stories, Droll Incidents, Queer Conceits and Apt Repartees. Illustrating 
the Drolleries of Border Life in the "West, Yankee Peculiarities, Dutch 
Blunders, Erench Sarcasms, Irish Wit and Humor, etc., with short Ludic- 
rous Narratives ; making altogether a Medley of Mirthful Morsels for the 
Melancholy that will drive away the blues, and cause the most misanthropio 
mortal to laugh. Illustrated paper covers 25 cts. 

Snipsnaps and Snickering's of Simon Snodgrass. A collec. 

tion of Droll and Laughable Stories, illustrative of Irish Drolleries and 
Blarney, Ludicrous Dutch Blunders, Queer Yankee Tricks and Dodpres, 
Backwoods Boasting, Humors of Horse-trading, Negro Comicalities, Per- 
ilous Pranks of Eighting Men, Frenchmen's Queer Mistakes. Scotch Shrewd- 
ness, and other phases of eccentric character, that go to make up a perfect 
and complete Medley of Wit and H\imor. It is also full of funny engrav- 
ings ,..,,, 25 cts. 



Fo-ular Sooks cent Frco cf Portage at tho Price3 annexed. 



Madams Le Normand's Fortune Teller. An entertaining 

book, said to have been written by Madame Le Normond, the celebruteit 
French Fortune Teller, who was frequently consulted by the Emperor 
Napoleon. A party of ladies ami gentlemen may amuse themselves fur 
hours with this curious book. It tells fortunes by •'"The Chart of Fate " (a 
large lithographic chart), and gives 624 answers to questions on every imag- 
inable subject that may happen in the future. It explains a variety of ways 
for telling fortunes by Cauls and Dice; gives a list of 79 curious old su- 
perstitions and omens, and 187 weather omens, and winds up with the cele- 
brated Oraculum of Napoleon. We will not endorse this hookas infallible; 
but we assure our readers that it is the source of much mirth whenever in- 
troduced at a gathering of ladies and gentlemen. Bound in boards. 40 Cts. 

The Fireside Magician; or, Th3 Art of Natural Magic 

Made Easy, Being a scientific explanation of Legerdemain, PhyBioal 
Amusement, Recreative Chemistry, Diversion with Cards, and of all the 
mysteries of Mechanical Magic, with feats as performed by Herr Alexander, 
Robert Heller, Ilobert Houdin, " The Wizard of the Sorth," and distin- 
guished conjurors — comprising two hundred and fifty interesting mental and 
physical recreations, with explanatory engravings. 132 pages, paper. 30 ct ■•• 
Bound in boards, cloth back *. 50 Ct3. 

Howard's Book of Conundrums and Riddles. Containing 

over 1,200 of the best Conundrums, Biddies, Enigmas, Ingenious Catches 
and Amusing Sells ever invented. This splendid eollectionof curious para- 
doxes will afford the materialfor a never-ending feast of fun and amusement. 
Any person, with the assistance of this book, may take the lead in enter- 
taining a company, and keep them in roars of laughter for hours together. 

Paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Ct3. 

The Parlor Magician; or, One Hundred Tricks for the 

Drawing-Room. Containing an extensive and miscellaneous collection of 
Conjuring and Legerdemain, embracing: Tricks with Dice, Dominoes and 
Cards; Tricks with Bibbons. Bings and Fruit; Tricks with Coin, Hand- 
kerchiefs and Balls, etc. The whole illustrated and clearly explained with 

12L engravings. Paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Ct3. 

Sook of Riddles and 500 Home Amusements. Containing 

a curious collection of Biddies, Charades and Enigmas ; Bebuses, Anagrams 
and Transpositions; Conundrums and Amusing Puzzles; Becrcations in 
Arithmetic, and Queer Sleights, and numerous other Entertaining Amuse- 
ments. Illustrated with 60 engravings. Paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, -with cloth back 50 Cts. 

The Book of Fireside Games. Containing an explanation of a 

variety of Witty, Bollicking. Entertaining and Innocent Games and Amus- 
ing Forfeits, suited to the Family Circle as aBccreation. This book is just 
the thing for social gatherings, parties and pic-nics. Paper covers -30 Cts. 
Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Ct3. 

The Book of 500 Curious Puzzles. Containing a large collec- 
tion of Curious Puzzles, Entertaining Paradoxes, Perplexing Deceptions in 
Numbers, Amusing Tricks hi Geometry; illustrated with a great variety of 

Engravings. Paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

Parlor Tricks with Cards. Containing explanations of all the 

Tricks and Deceptions with Playing Cards ever invented. The -whole illus- 
trated and made plain and easy "with 70 engravings. Paper covers.. 30 Cts. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back .....50 cts. 



Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

Day's Book-Keeping Without a Master. Containing the Ru- 
diments of Book-keeping in Single and Doable Entry, together with the 
proper Forms and Rules tor opening and keeping condensed and general Book 
Accounts. This work is printed in a beautiful script type, and hence com- 
bines the advantages of a handsome style of writing wi.h its very simple and 
easily understood" lessons in Book-keeping. Tue several pages have ex- 
planations at the bottom to assist the learner, in small type. As a pattern 
for opening book accounts it is especially valuable— particularly for those who 
are not well posted in the art. Day's Book-Keeping is tnc size of a regular 
quarto Account Book, and is made to lie hat open for convenience in 
use 30 Cuj> 

Blank Books for Day's Book-Keeping, We have for sale 

Books of 9fi pages each, ruled according to tie patterns mentioned on pngo 
3 of Day's Book-Keki'ING, suitable for practice of the learner, viz.: Ko. L— 
For General Book-keeping, pages 4 and o ; for Cash Account on page 13; 
for Day-Boot in Single Eutrv, pages 15 to 25. tfo. 2— For Condensed Ac- 
counts, pages 9 and 10 ; for* Cash Account, page 12; for Journal in Double 
Entry, passes 34 to 43. No. 3— For Ledgers in Double or Single Entry, pages 
26to'44. Each Number 50 Cts. 

How to Learn the Sense of 3,000 Erench Words in one 

Hour. This ingenious little book actually accomplishes all that its title 
claims. It is a fact that there are at least three thousand words in the 
French language, forming a large proportion of those used in ordinary con- 
versation, which are spelled exactly the same as ia English, or become the 
same by very slight and easily understood changes in their termination. 16- 
mo, illuminated paper covers 25 CtS. 

How to Speak in Public; or, The Art of Extempore Oratory. 

A valuable manual for those who desire to become ready off-hand speakers ; 
containing clear directions how to arrange ideas logically and quickly, in- 
cluding illustrations, by the analysis of speeches delivered by some of the 
greatest orators, exemplifying the importance of correct emphasis, clearness 
of articulation, and appropriate gesture. Paper covers -4,5 CIS. 

Live and Learn. A guide for all those who wish to speak and 

write correctly; particularly intended as a Book of Reference for the solu- 
tion of difficulties connected with Grammar, Composition. Punctuation, &c, 
&c, containing examples of 1.000 mistakes of doily occurrence in speaking, 
writing and pronunciation. Cloth, l6mo, 21 6 pages 75 ct3. 

The Art of Dressing Well. By Miss S. A. Frost. This book is 
designed for ladies and gentlemen "who desire to make a favorable impres- 
sion upon society. Paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Thimm's French Self-Taught. A new system, on the most 

simple principles, for Universal Self- Tuition, with English pronunciation of 
every word. By this system the acquirement of the French Language is 
rendered less laborious and more thorough than by any of the old methods. 
By Franz Thimm 25 Cts. 

Thimm's German Self-Taught. Uniform with "French Self- 
Taught, " and arranged in accordance with the name principles of thorough- 
ness and simplicity. By Franz Thimm 25 etn. 

Thimm's Spanish Self-Taught. A book of self-instruction in 

the Spanish Language, arranged according to the same method as the 
" French " and '* German," by the same author, and uniform with them iu 
size. By Franz Thimm 25 Cts. 

Thimm's Italian Seif-Taught. Uniform in style and size with 
the thrcQ foregoing books. By Franz Thimm 25 ets. 



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CARD AND OTHER GAMES. 

"Trump's" American Hoyle; or, Gentleman's Hand-Book 

of Gaines. This work contains an exhaustive treatise on Whist, by William 
Pole, F.R.S., and the rules tor playing that game as laid down ly the Hon. 
James Clay. It also contains clear descriptions of all the games played 
in the United States, with the American rules for playing them ; including 
Euclire, Bezique, Cribbage, All Fours, Loo, Poker, Brag, Piquet, Pedro 
Saucho, Penuchle, Railroad Euchre, Jack Pots, Ecarte, Boston. Catssino, 
(Jhess, Checkers, Backgammon, Billiards, Dominoes, and a hundred other 
games. This work is designed as an American authority in all games of 
skill and chance, and ivill settle any disputed point. It has been prepared 
with great care, and is not a rediash of English games, hut a live American 
book, expressly prepared for American players. The Ameuicax Hoyle 
contains .125 pages, is printed on line white paper, bound in cloth, with extra 
gilt side and beveled boards, and is profusely illustrated £2.00 

Tlie Modern Pocket Hoyle. By " Tramps." Containing all 

the games of skill and chance, as played in this country at the present time, 
being an "authority on all disputed points." This valuable manual is all orig- 
inal, or thoroughly reyised from the best and latest authorities, and includes 
the laws and complete directions for playing one hundred and eleven differ- 

erent games. 386 pages, paper covers 50 CtS. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 75 cts. 

Bound iu cloth, gilt side and back $1.25 

Hoyle's Games. A complete Manual of the laws that govern all 

games of skill and chance, including Card Games, Chess, Checkers, Domi- 
noes, Backgammon, Dice, Billiards (as played in this country at the present 
time), and all Field Games. Entirely original, or thoroughly revised from 

the latest and best American authorities. Paper covers 50 cts. 

Boards 75 cts. 

Cloth, gilt side $1.25 

Walker's Cribbage Made Easy. Being a new and complete 

Treatise on the Game in all varieties. By George Walker, Esq. A very 
comprehensive work on this Game. It contains over 500 examples ot how 
to discard for your own and your adversary's crib. 
142 pages, bound in boards 50 CtS. 

100 Tricks With Cards Exposed and Explained. By J. H. 

Green, the Eeformed Gambler. This book exposes and explains all the 
Mvsteries of the Gambling Tables. It is interesting not only to those who 

play, but to those who do not. Paper covers aO CtS. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back. OU Cts. 

How Gamblers Win-, or, The Secrets of Advantage Play- 

msr Exposed. Being a complete and scientific expose of the manner of 
plaving all the various advantages in the various Card Games, as practiced 
by 'professional gamblers. This work is designed as a warning to self-confi- 
dent card-players. Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Box 3975. NEW YORK. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
Marline's Sensible Letter- Writer. Bein^r a comprehensive 

and complete Guide and Assistant for those who desire to carry on Episto- 
lary Correspondence ; containing: a large collection of model letters on the 
simplest matters of life, adapted to all ages and conditions— 



EMBRACING, 



Business Letters ; 

A2>plications for Employment, with 
Letters of Recommendation and 
Answers to Advertisements ; 

Letters between Parents and Children; 

Letters of Friendly Counsel and lie- 
monstrance ; 

Letters soliciting Advice, Assistance 
and Friendly Favors ; 



Letters of Courtesy, Friendship and 
Affection ,- 

Letters of Condolence and Sympathy ,- 

A Choice Collection of Love-Letters, 
for Every Situation in a Court*' rip ,- 

Notes of Ceremony, Familiar Invita- 
tions, etc., together with Notes of 
Acceptance and Regret. 



The whole containing' 300 Sensible Letters and Notes. This is an invalua- 
ble book for those persons who have not had sufficient practice to enable 
them to write letters without great effort. It contains such a variety of 
letters, that models may be found to suit every subject. 

2)7 pages, bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Bound" in cloth 75 Ct3. 

Marline's Hand-Book of Etiquette and Guide to True 

Politeness. A complete Manual for all those who desire to understand 
good breeding, the customs of good society, and to avoid incorrect and 
vulgar habits. Containing clear and comprehensive directions for correct 
manners, conversation, dress, introductions, rules for good behavior at 
Dinner Parties and the Table, with hints on carving and wine at tabic ; 
together with the Etiquette of the Ball and Assembly Boom, Evening 
Parties, and the usages to be observed when visiting or receiving calls'; 
Deportment in the street and when traveling. To which is added the Eti- 
quette of Courtship, Marriage, Domestic Duties and fifty-six rules to be ob- 
served in general society. By Arthur Martiue. Bound in boards ..50 cts. 
Bound in cloth, gilt sides 75 eta. 

Dick's Quadrille Call-Book and Ball-Room Prompter. Con- 
taining clear directions how to call out the figures of every dance, with tlio 
quantity of music necessary for each figure, and simple explanations of till 
the figures which occur in Plain and Fancy Quadrilles. This book gives 
plain and comprehensive instructions how to dauce all the new and popular 
dances, including the following: 



TJie Parisian Varieties; 
Tlte New French Quadrille; 
The Waltz Quadrille,- 
The Glide Lancers; 
The Saratoga Lancers; 
The Waltz Caledonians; 
The Prince Imperial; 
Tlie Caledonians and Lancers; 
The Social, Basket and Gavotte Quad- 
rilles,- 



The Empire Quadrille; 

The March, Star and Mazurka Quad- 

rillcs; 
The Cheat and Jig, London Polka, 

and other Plain and Fancy QMid- 

rilles,- 
All the Round Dances, Reels and 

Country Dances,- 
The " German," with description of 

the new Figures. 



To which is added a Complete and Sensible G-uide for Etiquette and Proper 
Deportment in the Ball and Assembly Boom, besides 108 pages of dance 

music for the piano. Paper covers 50 Cts. 

Bound in boards 75 C^i. 

Wright's Book of 3,009 American Receipts. Containing 

Cookery, Distilling:, Perfumery, Chemicals, Varnishes, Dyeing, Agriculture, 
etc. lixuo, cloth, 359 pages T §1.50 



Popular Books sent £ree of Postage at the Price3 annexed. 



Lola Montez' Arts of Beauty; or, Secrets of a Lady's 

Toilet. Tl ith hints to Gentlemen on the Art of Fascinating. Lola Montez 
Lore explains all the Arts employed by the celebrated beauties and fashion- 
able la.hes iu Paris and other cities of Europe, for the purpose of preserving 
their beaut; and improviug and developing their charms. The recipes nro 
all clearly given, so that any person can understand them, and the work em- 
braces the following subjects : 
Uoiv to obtain such desirable a7id in 



dispensable attractions as A Hand- 
some. Form ; 

A Bright and Smooth Skin ; 

A Beautiful Complexion ; 

A ttractive Eyes, Mouth and Lips ; 

A Bea utiful Hand, Foot and Ankle ; 

A Vt'ell-trained Voice; 



A Soft and Abundant Head of Hair,- 
Also, How to Remedy (fray Hair,- 
And harmless but effectual methods of 
removing Superfluous Hair end 
oilier blemishes, with interesting in- 
formation on these and kindred 
matters. 



Illuminated paper cover 25 cts. 

Hillgrove's Ball -Room Guide and Complete Dancing- 
Master. Containing a plain treatise on Etiquette andT>eportment at Balls 
and Parties, with valuable hints on Dress and the Toilet, together with 

Full Explanations of the Rudiments, 
Terms, Figures and Steps used in 
Dancing; 



Including Clear and Precise Instruc 
tionshow to dance all kinds of Quad 
rilles, Waltzes, Folkas, Redowas 



Reels, Round, Plain and Fancy 
Dances, so that any person may 
learn them without the aid of a 
Teacher; 
To which is added easy directions how 
to call out the Figures 
of every dance, and the amount of music required for each. Illustrated 
with 176 descriptive engravings. By T. Hillgrove, Professor of Dancing. 

Bound in cloth, with gilt side and back $1?6 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 75 ' Q fa 

The Banjo, and How to Play it. Containing, in addition to 

the elementary studies, a choice collection of Polkas. Waltzes, Solos. Schot- 
tisches. Songs', Hornpipes, Jigs, Reels, etc., with full explanations of both 
the ''Banjo' and "G-uitar" styles of execution, and designed to impart a 
complete knowledge of the art of playing the Banjo practically, without tho 
aid of a teacher. This work is arranged on the progressive "system, show- 
ing the learner how to play the first few notes of a tune, then the 
next notes, and so on, a small portion at a time, until he has mastered the 
entire piece, every detail being as clearly and thoroughly explained as if lie 
had a teacher at his elbow all the time. By Prank B. Converse, author of 
the "Banjo without a Master." 16mo, bouud in boards, cloth back. .50 cts. 

Bow's National Wages Tables. Showing at a glance the 
amount of wages from half an hour to sixty hours, at from $1 to $37 per 
week. Also from one-quarter of a day to four weeks, at $1 to i'.fi per week. 
By Nelson Bow. By this book, which is particularly useful when part of a 
week, day or hour is lost, a large pay-roll can be made out in a few minutes, 
thus saving more time in making out one pay-roll than the cost of the book. 
Every employer hiring help by the hour, day or week, and every employee, 
should obtain one, as it will enable him to know exactly the amount of 
money he is entitled to on pay-day. Half bound 50 cts. 

Bow's Complete Fractional Beady-Beckoner. For buying 

and selling any kind of merchandise, giving the fractional parts of a pound, 
yard, etc., from one-quarter to one thousand, at any price from one-quarter 
of a cent to five dollars. By Nelson Bow. 3b'mo, 23-,' pages, boards . . 50 ct2. 

Blunders in Behavior Corrected. A book of Deportment for 

both Ladies aud Gentlemen. By means of this book yon can learn the most 
difficult phases in Etiquette, or behavior in good society L'j els. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

Delisser's Horseman's Guide. Comprising the Laws on War- 
ranty, and the Rules in purchasing and selling horses, with the decisions 
and reports of various courts in Europe and the United States ; to which is 
added a detailed account of what constitutes soundness and unsoundness, 
and a precise method, simply laid down, for the examination of horses, 
showing their age to thirty years old ; together with an exposure of the 
various tricks and impositions practiced by low hoi-se-dealers (iockeys) on 
inexperienced persons ; also, a valuable Table of each and every hone in the 
structure of the Horse. By George P. Delisser, Veterinary Surgeon. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

Bound in cloth $1.00 

Brisbane's Golden Ready-Reckoner. Calculated in Dollars 

and Cents. Showing at once t*he amount or value of any number of articles 
or quantity of goodb, or any merchandise, either by the gallon, quart, pint, 
ounce, pound, quarter, hiuufred, yard, foot, inch, bushel, etc., in an easy and 
plain manner. To which are added Interest Tables, calculated in dollars 
and cents, for days and for months, at six per cent, and at seven per cent, 
per annum, alternately ; and a great number of other Tables and Rules for 
calculation never before iu print. Bound in boards 35 Cts, 

How to Cook Potatoes, Apples, Eggs and Fish, Four 

Hundred Different Ways. Our lady friends will be surprised when they 
examine this book, and find the great variety of ways that the same article 
may be prepared and cooked. The work especially recommends itself to 
those who are often embarrassed for want of variety in dishes suitable for 
the breakfast-table, or on occasions where the necessity arises for preparing 

a meal at short notice. Paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts« 

The American Housewife and Kitchen Directory. This val- 
uable book embraces three hundred and seventy-eight recipes for cookinsr all 
sorts of American dishes in the most economical manner; it also contains a 
variety of important secrets for washing, cleaning, scouring and extracting 
grease, paint, stains and iron-mould from cloth, muslin and linen. Bound in 

ornamental paper covers 30 Ct3. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

How to Cook and How to Carve. Giving plain and easily 

understood directions for preparing and cooking, with the greatest economy, 
every kind of dish, with complete instructions for serving" the same. This 
book is just the thing for a young Housekeeper. It is worth a dozen of ex- 
pensive French books. Paper covers 30 Ct3. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Ct3. 

The American Home Cook Book. Containing several hun- 
dred excellent recipes. The whoie based on many years' experience of an 
American Housewife. Illustrate I with engravings. All the Recipes in 

this book are written from actual experience in Cooking. Paper 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

The Yankee Cook Book. A new system of Cookery. Con- 
taining hundreds of excellent recipes from actual experience in Cooking; 
also, full explanations in the artof Carving. 126 pages, paper covers. 30 Cts. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

How to Mix all Kinds of Fancy Drinks. Containing clear and 

reliable directions for mixing all the "beverages used in the United States. 
Erabraeinvr Punches. .Tnleps. Cobblers. Cocktails, etc., etc., in endless variety. 

Bv Jerry Thomas. Illuminated paper covers ....50 cts. 

Bound in full cloth 75 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 



What. Shall We Do To-Night? or, Social Amusements for 

Evening Parties. This elegant book affords an almost inexhaustible fund of 
amusement for evening parties, social gatherings and all festive occasions, 
ingeniously grouped together so as to furnish complete and ever-varying 
entertainment for Twenty-six evenings. Its repertoire embraces all the beat 
round and forfeit games, clearly described and rendered perfectly plain by 
original and amusing examples, interspersed with a great variety of ingenious 
puzzles, entertaining tricks and innocent sells ; new and original Musical 
and Poetical pastimes, startling illusions and mirth-provoking exhibi- 
tions; including complete directions and text for performing Charades. 
Tableaux. Parlor Pantomimes, the world-renowned Punch and Judy. Gr.l- 
lanty Shows and original Shadow-pantomimes; also, full information for the 
sueccssful performance of Dramatic Dialogues and Parlor Theatricals, with 
a selection of Original Plays, etc., written expressly for this work. It is em- 
bellished with over one hundred descriptive and* explanatory engravings, 
and contains 366 pages, printed on fine toned paper. Extra cloth. . . §2.1* 

The Secret Out: or, 1,000 Tricks with Cards, and Other 

Itecreations. Illustrated with over 300 engravings. A book which ex- 
plains all the Tricks and Deceptions with Playing Cards ever known, and 
gives, besides, a great many new ones. The whole being described so care- 
fully, with engravings to illustrate them, that anybody can easily learn how 
to perform them. This work also contains 240 of the best Trick s"of Legerde- 
main, in addition to the Card Tricks. Such is the uneriing process of in- 
struction atloited in this volume, that no reader can fail to succeed in ex- 
ecuting every Trick, Experiment. Game, etc., set down, if he will at all de- 
vote his attention, in his leisure hours, to the subject; and, as abno>t every 
trick with cards known will be found in this collection, it maybe considered 
the only complete work on the subject ever published 
12mo, 400 pages, bound in cloth, gilt side and back §1. 50 

The Magician's Own Book; or, The Whole Art of Con- 

jurmff, A complete hand-book of Parlor Magic, containing over a thou- 
sand Optical, Chemical, Mechanical, Magnetic and Magical Experiments, 
Amusing Transmutations, Astonishing Sleights and Subtleties, Celebrated 
Card Deceptions, Ingenious Tricks with Numbers, curious and entertaining 
Puzzles, the Art of Secret Writing, together with all the most noted tricks 
of modern performers. Illustrated with over 500 wood-cuts, the whole 
forming a comprehensive guide for amateurs. 12mo, cloth, gilt 81.60 

The Sociable; or, One Thousand and One Home Amuse- 
ments. Containing Acting Proverbs, Dramatic Charades, Acting Cha- 
rades or Drawing-room Pantomimes, Musical Burlesques, Tableaux Vivants, 
Parlor Games, Games of Action, Forfeits, Science in Sport and Parlor 
Magic, and a choice collection of curious Mental and Mechanical Puzzles, 
etc. Illustrated with numerous engravings and diagrams. The whole be- 
ing a fund of never-ending entertainment. 376 pages.cloth, gilt $1.50 

Athletic Sports for Boys. A Kepository of Graceful Eecrea- 
tions for Youth, containing clear and complete instructions in Gymnastics, 
Limb Exercises, Jumping, Pole- Leaping. Dumb Bells, Indian Clubs. Paral- 
lel Bars, the Horizontal Bar, the Trapeze, the Suspended Popes, and the 
manly accomplishments of Skating, Swimming, Bowing, Sailing. Horse- 
manship, Biding, Driving, Angling, Fencing and Broadsword. Illustrated 
with 194 wood-cuts. Bound in boards 75 CtS. 

The Youn^ Reporter; or, How to Write Short-Hand. A 

Complete Phonographic Teacher, intended as a School-book, to afford thor- 
. o'io:li instructions to those who have not the assistance of an Oral Teacher. 
By the aid of this work, any person of the most ordinary intelligence may 
learn to write Rliort-Ha-nd. and report Speeches and Sermons in a short time. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back'. 50 Ct3. 



GOOD BOOKS 

Sent ITree of Postage at the Prices Marked. 

♦ ♦ > 

Le Marchand's Fortune Teller and Dream Book, 85 cts. 

Tbo Young Reporter; or, How to Write ShortHand, 50 " 

Brisbane's Golden Eeady-Beckoner, 35 " 

The American Hoyle; or, Gentleman's Book of Games, 2 00 " 

The Book of Biddies, and 500 Amusements, 50 " 

The Parlor Magician, 200 Illustrations, 50 " 

Parlor Tricks with Cards, 50 " 

Hillgrove's BallBoom Guide, 75 " 

Pettengill's Fortune Teller and Dream Book, 35 " 

Chesterfield's Etiquette and Letter Writer combined, 35 " 

Fontaine's Golden Wheel Dream Book and Fortune Teller, 35 " 

Everlasting Fortune Teller and Magnetic Dream Book, 30 " 

100 Gamblers' Tricks with Cards Exposed, - 30 " 

Willis' Etiquette and Usages of Society, - 13 " 

Richardson's Monitor of Freemasonary, 125 " 

The Perfect Gentleman; or, Etiquette and Eloquence, 1 50 " 

The Ladies' Fortune Teller of Love, Courtship, and Marriage, 30 " 

How to Play Whist, Euchre, Loo, and Poker, 13 " 

Horse Taming, as practiced by J. H. Rarey, 13 " 

Knowlson's Complete Farrier and Horse Doctor, 13 " 

Al-Ma-Kan-Tur Circle ; or, How to Win a Sweetheart or Lover, —25 " 

Book of Fireside Games for Home Amusement, 50 " 

Book of 500 Curious Puzzles, withlOO Illustrations, 50 " 

The Secret Out ; or, 1,000 Tricks with Cards, 150 " 

How to Mix Drinks, containing 800 Recipes, 2 50 " 

Chesterfield's Art of Letter- Writing Simplified, 13 " 

The Laws of Love ; or, How to Conduct a Courtship, 30 " 

H*v to Woo and How to Win; or, Rules for Courtship, 13 " 

Bridal Etiquette, with Rules for Bridesmaids, 13 " 

Howto Behave; or, The Spirit of Etiquette, 13 " 

Mind Your Stops ; or, Punctuation Made Plain, 13 " 

Dictionaryof 3,000 Abbreviations, 13 " 

Blunders in Behavior Corrected ■* 13 " 

How to Talk and Debate, 13 " 

Ladies' Guide to Beauty, containing over 500 Recipes, 25 " 

Ladies' Guide to Crochet Cloth,Gilt, 125 " 

The American Home Cook Book, 30 " 

Live and Learn; or, 1,000 Mistakes in Speaking and Writing 

Corrected, 75 " 

Morgan's Freemasonary Exposed and Explained, 25 *' 

Boxing Made Easy, and How to Wrestle, 13 " 

Courtship Made Easy ; or, the Art of Making Love fully Explained, 13 " 

Ladies' Guide to Beauty. By Lola Montez, 75 " 

The Game of Checkers Simplified and Explained, - 50 " 

Sexv* C*a* Orders to DICK & FITZGERALD, 

Publishers, Ko. 18 Ann Street, New York. 



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